


Woven In History

by offwiththeirheads



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Diagon Alley, Flying, Hogsmeade, Kissing, M/M, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Patronus, Quidditch World Cup, Weddings, Wizarding World, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 58,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwiththeirheads/pseuds/offwiththeirheads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re wizards! They’re Quidditch Players! </p><p>Niall is not who he says he is. Harry is a Muggle-born trying to find his rightful place. Louis is on the run from reporters and trying to have a proper love life. Liam is just Liam because he’s Liam and Zayn is the one friend who has his head on his shoulders and is aware of an existing Wizarding world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woven In History

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theglitterbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterbee/gifts).



> I would like to thank my prompter for the lovely prompt that I came to love deeply. I want to thank my amazing beta Karen for her hard work on betaing this little baby. Thank you to the moderators of this exchange for putting this together, their hard work is much appreciated.
> 
> It’s been a lovely ride and I hope whoever is reading this, enjoys it as much as I did. Please do not forget to leave your thoughts in the comment box since they help me a lot in improving my skills. Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer : I do not own any of the boys and all character personalities are fiction, so is the story. 
> 
> I have invented some of my own spells here, even locations. It’s very obvious that Louis is a Slytherin (I’m a proud Slytherin myself) but I wanted a change so therefore I put him in a different house. It’s all about the story. I have not read any fandom Larry HP fics yet (I intend to sometime) & I also have to re read the entire HP collection since I last read them three years ago so my HP intelligence might be a little rusty. Enjoy!

 

With a cup of earl grey in hand, he steps out onto the porch in a pair of loose pants and a ratty t-shirt that belongs to Zayn or actually is his. Their clothes get mixed up all the time. Taking a warm sip of the tea, he relishes in the sight of the morning, bright and lively. Cars pass by on the lane cut away from the main road which is usually for nearby residents. There’s no white picket fence or a lovely green garden with rows upon rows of flowers although Harry would very much love it. It’s a simple flat for two boys, two hard working single boys and they’re quite content with it.

               

The ruddy garden patch has a few blossoms at random areas, wild blossoms obviously, and he brushes his toe against the petal of one leaning towards him. Harry pulls on a pair of Wellies and steps down from the porch to get the mail from their post box. It’s supposedly red, really requires a new paint job, standing by the gate.

               

There’s really not that much exciting mail he realizes as he leafs through the envelopes in one hand. It’s all bills and students loan payments and well okay, Zayn’s cheque has come in, it’ll be a thrilling moment for him. But then he hears a screech and on instinct he tips his head to face upwards, squints and stares at the sky. For a moment he wants to slap his forehead but then decides he better get indoors or that owl is going to smash into the glass.

               

He hurries through the veranda into his bedroom, covered in endless array of photographs which paint a heavenly feel around the room. He is just in time, for the owl is pecking at the window with its beak.

               

“Heaven’s sake.” He mutters under his breath, depositing the mail and his tea on a side table and unlocking the latch of the window before pushing it outwards. The owl enters with a soft sound of its flapping wings and drops the envelope onto Harry’s open hand, “Nice to see you too Patty!” Patty doesn’t greet him, she’s absolutely stubborn sometimes.

               

Harry pays no mind to Patty as she stays behind - which she always does whenever she brings him a letter -, aimlessly turning her head around to observe the room. He tears the envelope open and takes out the folded parchment, and bloody hell that’s a _ticket!_ Heart pumping rapidly in his chest, he scours the ticket, the very top of it saying in huge bold letters _Quidditch World Cup_! It only causes his heart to hammer a bit faster.

               

The letter is from Gemma, asking him how he’s been doing, and that she’s having a hell of a time at work but her boyfriend had managed to get all three of them tickets to the World Cup. She was hoping Harry could make it, whether if he did or not, requesting him to send a reply through Patty. However unfortunate and cringe worthy it is for Harry, the only way they could communicate was by Patty. Gemma, of course could send him mail by the normal post but he had no way of sending her any by that means so there’s always the risk of being found out by Zayn or other people which so far hasn’t happened and he hopes never does.

               

Tearing a small piece of paper from his notepad by the desk, he scribbles a short and simple note : _Doing well Gems. Thx for the tickets. I can absolutely make it. Love H xx_

He folds it into a small square as he possibly can and tucks it into the tiny leather pocket tied around Patty’s leg. She eyes him, black orbs looking frightfully startling and he sighs. “Okay, alright, I’ll get you a treat and stop giving me that look or Gemma will hear of it.” Patty still says nothing, not even a nod. Bloody bird! He loves Patty all the same so he goes into his kitchen in search of the owl food he had bought last time.

               

Patty accepts it, lets him stroke her head and tickle her neck before she’s flying out the window. He watches her leave until she’s a tiny speck in the sky and then looks down at the ticket and letter in his hand.

 

It’s not the first time Harry’s travelling to the wizarding world; in fact it’s not even simply travelling. He’s attending the Quidditch World Cup for the very first time in his life! He feels giddy and the match is like three days away and in the mean time Harry has friends to hang out with, a Sunday dinner to plan and job assignments to complete.

               

Zayn is at work and had promised to buy dinner for the two of them which leaves lunch for Harry to prepare for himself. He finishes the last dregs of his tea in one gulp and hides the letter under a loose board in his dresser drawer.              

 

Harry is a wizard, a Muggle born, but he has not the slightest clue when it comes to creating spells or the knowledge of things related to the Wizarding world like his sister does. They were born in Barnton, and now Gemma lives in Hogsmeade, and Harry in London. He visits her sometimes, whenever he feels like it or has the time to do so but it’s not like he can go on a vacation to Hogsmeade or something because he has a life back in Muggle London. Not even his hardworking friends can manage a vacation so what would it show them if he simply packed his bags and declared he was going on vacation? He could take them with him but Hogsmeade is full of wizards and witches in robes and pointed hats, it would creep out the boys. He could also give a simple explanation like “I’m visiting my sister” and it would make for a good reason except that he doesn’t really fancy staying in Hogsmeade for so long, he sort of doesn’t belong there.

               

He does belong in the sense of flesh and blood but in an emotional and physical sense, he doesn’t really. It only tends to make him insecure and downcast. He doesn’t dress like them or carry a wand around all the time or anything of the sort, doesn’t even know the sites Wizards deem as famous. In addition Gemma doesn’t really have a lot of time on her hands considering she’s a professor at Hogwarts, so the act of meeting each other now and then for a meal or something makes do for them. He misses her of course, she’s his only family but he has to also remember that they’re both leading very different lives.

               

Harry has always been endlessly fascinated by the moving photographs and sweets, even the owls that carry the post and the technicality of the spells performed when he gives Hogsmeade a visit. He had once tried unlocking a door with Gemma’s wand and it was such a weak attempt because her wand didn’t respond to him. It was only after an irritated seven tries that he finally gets the bloody door to unlock. Gemma had been laughing in the background, kept suggesting to make a visit to Ollivander’s and get his own wand. He refused because what use would he have of it? Back in the Muggle world it would be much of a help for daily chores and all that but he still had to learn how to use it. Unfortunately he doesn’t have time to put in for all of it. He can do just fine as a Muggle.

               

He logs into his email to check for any new work assignments he has received and when he finds the inbox empty, decides to take his morning walk. Shutting the window and drawing the blinds, he throws on his tracksuit and ties his curls with a headband. Then he picks up his camera which is sitting on top of the dresser in its bag, slings it around his neck and heads out of the place, locking their flat door behind him.

 

At first he takes the road, then the park for a good hour until he is finally gasping for breath. He takes a moment to regain his breath before following the track to the deserted valley he passed by during his trips to work. There are no houses about, simply lonely trees that are dying and a river whose waters are anything but purely clean. Harry finds a patch of rocks and takes a seat so he can rest, deciding to take some photos later. He photographs literally anything that interests him because every place, every opportunity is one more memory to add to his collection and somehow the photographs that never get used, ends up being hung on the wall of his bedroom. Zayn had once commented on it with an impressed yet disapproving look.

 

_“There are so many people.” He had said, standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, “Why are you surrounding yourself with people you don’t know? That’s sort of freaky.”_

 

_Harry had chuckled and bumped shoulders with him, “What does not freak you out Zaynie?”_

 

_“You, doing sensible things that is.” He had replied then sighed and shook his head, “Do your thing Harry. This is you. Don’t mind me. I can be silly at times.”_

 

But Harry loves it, loves being able to capture a moment that not even that specific person would have realized, like a genuine smile or lovers exchanging a kiss. Those are grandeur moments, most of all it’s about expressions and actions to Harry, which is rarely ever explored. Yet he has other pictures like nature and animals, even some of Zayn and his friends, parties he attends. The cameras in the Wizarding world are totally different though and Harry had always thought he’d buy one someday. The fact that he could capture a moment and have it move is relatively mind blowing. He is a boy of fascination that never gets old.

 

When he’s finally feeling like himself and has captured to his heart’s content, he heads back to the flat, takes a shower and checks his email to find a new assignment. He leaves the flat again, picks up a pastry from the bakery nearby, drops his due assignment at the front desk of the firm he works for and embarks on a bus ride for his next assignment of new photographs.

 

-

 

Harry is packing his bag two days later because according to Gemma, he would need to stay for two days and needs to bring any belongings of his. Just like he always has, he’s not really packing for two but for three days because one never knows; something could be put off and that’s another extra day.

 

He’s pulling the house apart for his green Packers jacket when Zayn comes home with Niall in tow. They both look startled at Harry, confused even but not questioning because it can irritate Harry which they found out the hard way.

 

“Have you seen my Packers jacket?” Harry asks. Niall grunts, points his thumb at the kitchen whilst raising the bag of food in indication and walks away.

 

Zayn scratches at the back of his neck, “I believe it was due for the Laundromats?”

 

“You’re asking me or telling me?”

 

“Okay. It’s in the hamper. One of us was supposed to get the laundry done.”

 

“I’ll do it.” Harry huffs, looking around but the house is not all that messed up just the furniture out of place and cushions disarrayed.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No worries. Keep my lunch warm, I’ll be quick.”

 

“Why the hurry anyway?” Zayn follows Harry into their washroom where the basket with their dirty clothes is stood beside the door.

 

“Vacation.” Harry replies but doesn’t say anything more. He’ll explain it to them later, hopefully during dinner or something. He puts on a pair of jeans, gets his keys and wallet and gets into the car. The Laundromat is not that far but it would be incredibly insane to be walking the street with a basket of dirty clothes.

 

When he’s finally put all the clothes into the washing machine and is seated there on a bench till it’s done, it’s a huge relief, and he pulls out his phone to play angry birds. He’s been obsessed with that game for the past week or at least that’s what Zayn keeps implying but really, the bird bloody falls down even before he gets it through the pipe. He needs to beat his last high score and the game’s addictive. There’s no one around at this time of the morning except for him and another woman whom he’s sure has met before, even though they don’t greet each other. Either way he knows she has cheeky five year old twin sons.

 

It’s in that moment while he’s engrossed in his game and the woman is pacing about that he sees the weirdest thing ever. He’s not supposed to believe everything that happens is weird when he very well knows that a Wizarding world exists but really, sometimes he forgets.

 

A sort of mild wind hits them, making their clothes flutter and sending a curt chill through Harry’s exposed skin. He abruptly looks up because he’s not even outside so how on earth does a wind circle inside a room? But when he looks, the woman is already staring at someone else so he follows her line of vision.

 

It’s a man who seems to be around Harry’s age, short and wearing a crafty smile. His tousled brown hair flutters too in those quick seconds. He hastily hurries to make an excuse. Harry can tell since he notices the fidgeting fingers and the working of his jaw. “Gotta go.” He says with a humorous laugh. They didn’t even ask him anything. The man looked familiar in that moment, although he can’t quite place his finger on it.

 

“Did you see that?” The woman asks him after the man hurries away, and Harry nods, getting back into the zone of his game. “Weird.” He hums, barely paying any attention. It’s none of his business really and his mind isn’t helping him out either, somehow making him feel like he had forgotten something important. The game, yeah he goes right back into it, forgetting the incident – at least intentionally - until his laundry is done.

 

When he gets back to the flat, Niall is seated at the kitchen nook, burrowing into his lunch, Harry’s plate sitting warm in the microwave. He waves to him in greeting as he carries the laundry to the rooms before coming back to join him.

 

“Where’s Zayn?” Harry questions, not having seen him around.

 

“Gillen needed him.” And when Harry looks confused, he continues, “She phoned him a few minutes ago saying she needed to speak to him about something. No idea what though.” Gillen is Zayn’s girlfriend of two years but the two lives separately since buying a house together would only not cost them more but could be a hazardous thing in their path if they ever do break up. Zayn’s not one for risking and neither is Gillen so they’re a weirdly matched couple in all the right and flawed ways.

 

A few moments of silence pass between them as they mindfully eat, Harry looking out the window past Niall and Niall reading a stray magazine on the table. “You have never done laundry in a hurry as such.” Niall coolly puts, shovelling a mouthful of rice.

 

Harry quirks an eyebrow at him and swallows his food before speaking. “I’m going to visit Gemma because it’s been a really long time and I sort of miss her. Homesick or something I guess. I dunno.”

 

Somehow Niall seems to understand, to believe it and his eyes soften. Harry’s friends know of his family situation, that Gemma is his only living family, sibling and she means so much to him.

 

“Hope you two have fun mate.” Niall reaches over the table to pat his arm with a smile.

 

Harry nods and smiles back, diverting his eyes to his food. He’s not a very good liar and if he tries to keep it up for longer than necessary, he always gets caught. With Niall it takes a bit longer though.

 

-

 

Later during the evening, when Zayn is guaranteed to be asleep in his room, Harry does a bit of light reading. It’s one of the books that used to be on his grandmother’s bookshelf, something Shakespearean, about Henry V.

 

When he turns, the bed creaking under the weight of his body, his hand slips and the book falls with a _thump_. Picking up the fallen book and ironing the crease on the page from its fall using his finger, Harry’s eyes drop to the floor, memory triggering enough to slide a smile across his face. He gets to his knees, placing the book on the bedside table as he does so, and with his free hand examines the wooden flooring.

 

His fingers bump against the raised area of the wood and quite carefully he tugs and pushes the single plank until he can fully raise it. Lying there, unharmed, wrapped and secure as he had last left it, lays the photo album.

 

Feeling jittery as he always does, he makes sure to check around him just in case and takes it out. He comfortably settles himself on the bed and starts unwrapping it, first the polythene bag, then the bubble wrap. The sight of it keeps making him smile so broadly, so brightly as if he has just been given a new life.

 

He thumbs through it, almost as if flicking through it would cause some sort of permanent damage. He handles it with such gentle care, eyes skimming over the pictures taken of him and his sister as babies. It wets his eyes to see the photo taken of him at the age of one and Gemma at five, sitting on the laps of their parents. His heart aches, misses them so much. It’s startling when a tear drops onto the page, causing him to realize that he’s bloody crying. He mops it away with the pad of his thumb and continues leafing through each page of his family’s documented life, his only treasure.

 

There’s a full family photo taken at a gathering, his distant relatives present, he hasn’t even heard from them for years. He believes them to have abandoned his family, sad, but he really couldn’t care. He smiles at the sight of his grandmother in the photo, greying but stronger than her last few days. He scoots backwards and rests his head on the bed rest, remembering her funeral and how bleak it was. Black everywhere…a sea of black and not a related blood family to soothe him except his dear sister who had been sobbing her wrecked heart out, beside him. They had held hands during the ceremony and wiped each other’s tears. They had hugged and Harry had squeezed his eyes shut as they lowered her into the ground. That was the only funeral he remembers, not his mother’s, not his father’s, not even his grandfather’s.

 

He’s sure she’s somewhere happy, reunited with his grandfather and watching over their grandchildren together. Maybe they even met his parents. Sometimes he wonders why he can’t join them too, why he has got to live like this but he knows, deep down and quite well that even though he wishes to leave everything and let go, he doesn’t really want to, because the curiosity of what the future might bring, keeps him tied down. The only reason he feels like joining his family in those times is because when sadness overwhelms a person they do not think of the good life they’re living, the people they’ve been gifted with, instead choosing to see everything they’ve lost. He has two wonderful best friends and other good mates, has a stable job, a place to live, a living sister and have had the honour of knowing that a Wizarding world exists.

 

Combing through, he comes across pictures of their birthdays, one of him smiling widely with cake crumbs and chocolate cream all around his mouth, photos of them on the lawn; Gemma hugging him like her life depended on it. He stares at his mother’s smile, how beautiful she is. He doesn’t remember living life with her, there are those odd moments when memories flood his mind, six year old him running around the house because he didn’t want to have his teeth brushed and his mother running after him, laughing. Her laugh had sounded so soothing, so motherly, tender, loving.

 

What he would give to spend another moment with her, he thinks. Shaking his head, he sighs and moves onto the next few pages, pictures of them at the zoo, on vacations, at the beach, having so much fun, delighted and glowing. He’s had a good childhood; he had been a happy kid hadn’t he? Until… “Fuck!” He breathes and throws his head back to calm himself down.

 

Getting back to the photo album, he quickly flips the pages of the last pictures they’d taken as a family, the last pictures of his parents, and then moves onto the ones when they came to know Hogwarts. Of course he had been too young to understand it, except that magic was real and his big sister was going far far away to learn magical stuff instead of going to a boring day school in Barnton.

 

_They had been planning to move to Cheshire. Nanny had been speaking about it for weeks and Harry had been thrilled by the idea when he had come home from nursery, bag slinging from his back. Gemma had simply paid no attention, sitting in the living room floor with her homework spread about. There was a knock on the door, sharp and swift._

 

_Harry was on the verge of opening it when Nanny had called out from the kitchen not to do so. With Gemma keeping an eye on him, he could only pout and pull his tongue out at his sister, waiting for Nanny. She finally appeared from the kitchen, there were no more knocks. Wiping her wet hands on the cloth hanging from her apron, she opened the door with Harry peeking from beside her. A man, tall and with a bird like nose was standing on the doorstep, wearing a long robe and a top hat like the ones some men wore in the movies, Harry had watched._

 

_“Good day to you Ma’am!” The man greeted without a single glance at Harry. “I am Davahand Scamander, a member of staff. I teach Transfiguration.” It made Harry all the more curious and then the man had produced a letter to Nanny, waiting patiently on the doorstep with his hands behind his back as she read it._

 

_“What is it Nan?” Harry pulled on her skirt but she had only shaken her head at him and gone back to reading. She clutched her chest where her heart rested Harry was sure, a few seconds later, mouth falling opening and for a sparse moment little Harry had been afraid that something was very wrong. Nanny then folded up the letter and looked at the man._

 

_“My Gemma?” She asked, her tone sounding unbelievable and the man nodded._

 

_“I believe you are familiar with this?” He asked and she nodded, “I shall not need to explain much?” She had nodded again. Harry was confused. What about Gemma? Was she in trouble? But it didn’t look like Granny was mad; her face hadn’t gone red so it had to be good. “I will assist you in the procedure of buying the essentials and getting on the train. I will expect to see you at the Leaky Cauldron at half past six tomorrow.”_

 

_Nanny nodded, “Very well sir.” And the man retreated his steps before turning around in a flourish and walking away._

 

_“Who is he Nan?” Harry tugged on her skirt all the more curious, as she closed the front door shut. Her eyes twinkled when she glanced down at him and it made something happy bubble in Harry’s tummy. Gemma was looking at them curiously after that, biting the end of her pencil._

 

_Granny sat down on the floor beside Gemma, pushing her books aside carefully and pulled Harry onto her lap. Then she proceeded to give Gemma the letter and once she had read it, Harry whining beside them, she looked at Granny with a wild look. Granny grinned, her pearl white teeth making an appearance and only continued to hug Harry closer to her._

 

_“There’s something I need to tell you little pumpkins.” Clutching the letter in her hand, Gemma’s interest had been piqued, she pulled herself closer. Granny blew air into Harry’s ear which made him giggle and pull away as it tickled him._

 

_Nanny had told them all about a Wizarding world and about people born with magical abilities. That non magical people didn’t know about it. “How did you know?” Gemma had asked and Granny had explained that her grandparents were part of the magical community and stories had been passed down onto them and that Gemma was the first ever witch in their family tree after two generations._

 

_Harry and Gemma had been listening so intently, so interested, clutching onto every word as if they were wishes a lamp was giving them._

 

_“What about me?” Harry pouted after Granny had explained, although he didn’t understand everything, it very well tickled his little mind. “Won’t I be going Nanny?”_

 

_“Oh you will my dear.” She bopped his nose and wrapped an arm around Gemma who was reading through her list of necessary books, “The day will come when you’re old enough and receive a similar letter. You’ll be my big boy then, going to Hogwarts.” She spoke to both of them when she said, “You must not speak of this to anyone my dears. The people who are not like us are to never know about this magical world. They are different and we are different. Bad things could happen if you utter a word. Now promise me my munchkins.”_

 

_They had each held out their pinkie finger to Granny and she had wrapped her own around theirs, sealing their promises and kissing their cheeks._

 

_The next day the strange man had taken them to the magical world past a brick wall that moved when he touched a specific place. Harry had seen many lovely things from moving pictures to real magic with his own real eyes._

 

_They had gotten to see the bank where there were goblins! And Harry and Gemma had bought a lot of candy too. Harry had not stopped squealing and being so hyper around the house even though it was Gemma heading to Hogwarts._

 

Oh if only Harry had known at that time that he wouldn’t really be going to Hogwarts. He thumbs at the pictures of Gemma wearing her Hogwarts uniform and Harry beside her, a big baby smile on his face which made his eyes crinkle and he instinctively touches his eyes. There are pictures of Harry wearing the uniform too, with his hands on his hips, a goofy look on his face. He remembers having cackled loudly, pointing the wand at both Gemma and Granny and saying _I will turn you into birds with pretty feathers!_ _Abracadabra!!_ Then there’s Gemma in her Hufflepuff uniform after she had been sorted into a house and had come home for the Christmas holidays, bearing gifts for both Harry and their nanny.

 

He carefully goes through the photos of him growing up, growing his hair, getting taller, moving to primary then to secondary, Gemma coming home for the holidays, them having a good time with the stuff she brings from Hogsmeade, their birthdays and Gemma’s owl Patty. They were both growing up as the years passed by and their grandmother grew older.

 

He comes across the few photos of him dressed in a cobalt blue suit, looking handsome and young for his first prom. His wild curls having been sprayed into a tamed nest and his cheeks flushed as he held his boyfriend’s hand. Oliver was his second boyfriend. They had been together for only half a year but Harry had felt that he was going to marry Oliver someday but that was so long ago when he was young and naïve and the night had been free. Oliver looked smart beside him in a silver suit and hair quaffed up, hazel eyes gleaming from the flash of the camera and house lights. His lips were so much smaller than Harry’s but just as rosy.

 

Gemma is on Harry’s other side, wearing a flowing light blue dress that goes perfectly with the colour of her skin. Her hair is French braided with flowers adorning the sides, her face has a light touch of makeup but her joy spoke so much more for it gives a shine to her features. She was attending the Yuleball at Hogwarts in her fourth year, smart as she was, with experience and the help of a fellow Hufflepuff she had Apparated to see Harry and their grandmother for a few minutes. She hadn’t wanted to miss her younger brother’s prom and in some way he hadn’t wanted to miss hers too so they got to see each other, dressed at their best before they were due to their own events. Oliver hadn’t known a thing of course, he was just aware that she was attending prom at their school. Granny had kissed them both with tears in her eyes and given a matching corsage and boutonniere to go with their blue colour scheme, saying that she felt that in some way the siblings would be connected that night.

 

The last pages of the album contain photos of him before and during his days at University, studying photography. He doesn’t bother with looking at them, only catching a side eye glance of him smiling broadly with his dimples out and hair tied up with a bandana. Those were their grandmother’s last few years and he doesn’t want to relieve them again. He feels the remaining plastic paper pages, empty, waiting for new memories to be slipped into its pockets. He wonders if there would ever be any to be collected. Neither he nor Gemma had wanted to insert anything else, nothing else seemed to matter in the present but someday, he hopes the two of them can go about their day without mourning. There will be a time, he knows it, can feel it in his bones.

 

He returns the album back to its place a little while later, setting the plank down and fixing it tightly so it doesn’t look odd out of the rest of the flooring nor has any ridges. He plops back into bed when he’s done, throwing an arm over his face and breathing in deeply. The hand that is hanging off the bed touches the gap between the mattress and the bed frame and he digs his fingers deeper until they touch the envelope he had hidden. It evokes the thoughts of work he has to get done before he heads off to Hogsmeade. He decides to fulfil the new assignment once he gets back and drop off the finished one before he leaves.

 

Shrugging on his coat and pocketing his necessary belongings, Harry stumbles around in search of the pen drive. When he finds it, he hangs his camera around his neck and walks out of the flat as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Zayn. He ignites the engine of the car and begins driving towards the shop he gets his camera film developed.

 

-

 

“My sister Gem…” Harry grunts as he pushes the sofa into its proper place, “lives like so far away and I’m going to see her.”

 

“But it’s like not even summer or anything.” Zayn points out, confused.

 

“I know, she’s just not doing well.” Harry gives a fake smile and pats the sofa as he straightens up. “And she wants to see me.”

 

“What about work and stuff?” Zayn follows him at his heads to the bedroom.

 

“I’ll inform them. They could do without me for at least three days.”

 

Zayn gapes, “Three days?”

 

“Why? Can’t live without me for three days?”

 

It makes Zayn splutter and punch him on the arm, “Shut up! Of course I can. I’ll bring Niall over and order takeaway every day.”

 

“You’ll end up with a bad stomach ache.” Harry chuckles and stuffs a few clothes into his satchel. His Packers jersey is sitting on the backrest of a chair, clean and fresh.

 

Zayn leans against the wall near the door, stroking the light stubble that dots his chin. “I still don’t understand why you’re running away like this.”

 

Harry gives him a look in between folding his clothes. “I’m not running away.” He wishes he could cast a charm or something on Zayn to make him believe him. He makes a mental note to ask Gemma if there’s a way to do that. She had after all, told him about the spells that could remove memories. It’s fucking cool as hell!

 

“Feels like it. You can’t blame me for not believing it.”

 

“Niall understood.”

 

Zayn snorts, “Nialler will believe just about anything. All he cares is that others are well and everything else doesn’t matter.”

 

“Exactly.” Harry points a finger at him, “And so should you.”

 

Shaking his head amusedly Zayn drops it. “I expect a better explanation when you’re done vacationing.”

 

“I’ll make sure to bring a deadly spider or something so I won’t get questioned.” He throws in a pair of ripped jeans, watching Zayn slip out of the room from the corner of his eye.

 

“Fuck you!” He can hear Zayn’s laughter from the corridor.

 

“Love you too!”

 

He rechecks his packed satchel, going through the items one more time and checking each one off the list he had created on his phone.

 

-

 

Harry is preparing breakfast for two, Niall having slept over the night before. Its mashed potatoes and a salad with bread to go with the fresh mango juice Harry had made yesterday. He gets distracted by the sudden blur that passes by the window next to him. He squints, putting away the utensil and peering through the window because what the hell just happened?! Either his eyes are playing tricks on him or something actually happened outside mere seconds ago. The person who had suddenly appeared at the Laundromat leaps into his mind as he’s looking out.

 

He moves away to resume his work when nothing else happens again, wondering if the person he saw at the Laundromat was a wizard apparting or something because that’s apparently how apparition works according to what Gemma had described to him.

 

While he’s cutting up the tomatoes for the salad, he hears the front door open. It puzzles him since Niall never really leaves without stomaching some food. That is, until he gets pulled into a tight embrace knocking the air out of him.

 

“Hiiiiiiii H!!” The squealing is bloody familiar and he wants to laugh. He’s holding a knife so with one hand he awkwardly hugs an enthusiastic Gillen, patting her before pulling apart.

 

“Good morning to you too!” He chuckles, getting back to preparing the meal that he will have to increase in proportionality. “Glad to see you’re over the moon today. You up for breakfast?”

 

“I’m always up for your cooking.” Gillen ambles onto the countertop, swinging her legs against the cabinet. That’s when Zayn makes an appearance, his hair looking dishevelled.

 

“Morning Haz!”

 

“Oh the couple makes an entrance!” Harry says cheekily, doing a flourish with one arm and making a show of it by holding the other to his forehead as if swooning. He winks at Zayn when Gillen isn’t looking at him. It makes the lad flush a light pink.

 

Their attention is dispersed when Niall sluggishly walks into the kitchen right into the table. His rubbing at his eyes but he looks fresh and not a trace of sleep paints his face. Harry thinks he might have stumbled, not that he’s sluggish this morning. “My favourite people are here!” Niall exclaims opening his arms wide for them. Gillen jumps right into them, she never hesitates to give into physical contact. When Zayn and Harry make a move to join them, Niall glares at them and backs away. “It’s just Gillen I was talking about, not you dweebs.”

 

“I’m offended.” Harry pouts, “No food for you.”

 

Niall gasps, finally letting go of Gillen who’s been grumbling that she can’t breathe, “You would never let a cute person like me starve. You love me too much Haz.”

 

“He only does because you have the best pub connections around.” Gillen laughs, sidling up to Zayn and wrapping an arm around his waist. He presses a kiss on her forehead and Harry smiles fondly. They’re cute, Gillen with her dark chestnut hair and short height and tan just like Zayn. She’s got an impressive smile and puppy look that literally could get anyone to do anything for her. Her eyes are brown just like Zayn’s but a little lighter and they’re highlighted by the mix of light and dark blue eye shadow she wears.

 

Niall’s steps falter as he walks to take a seat at the table. Harry doesn’t remember him drinking last night or doing any other sort of activity that involves beds but it strikes a spot in him, Niall acting weird hasn’t been this bad before. He begins dishing the food onto plates and pouring the fresh, sweet smelling juice into glasses, Zayn helping him carry them to the table where Gillen had begun chit chatting with Niall. “You weren’t expecting the two of us were you?” Zayn makes conversation and Harry shakes his head, “Thanks for the extra work, making us breakfast and all that.”

 

“It’s no problem.” Harry sits beside Zayn and tucks in, “I always do, and it’s just one extra person whom I regard as part of our clan.” Zayn huffs a chuckle and bats at the napkin Gillen is dangling in front of his face.

 

-

 

Gillen stays the whole day, taking up Zayn’s room and they’re all used to her coming over like that. Harry spends his time reading over the latest newspaper articles in which his photographs have been used and thankfully they have done justice to his work.

 

After dinner and when they’re all about to be settling on the sofas for a good movie to finish off the day, Gillen comes running and skids to a halt in the hallway, something hidden behind her back. “Guess what I found?”

 

Zayn looks at her as if she’s gone mad and Niall can’t stop laughing for whatever reason. Harry is amused, there’s never a dull day at his flat when spending time with his friends. “I’m assuming Zayn’s hair product? What did he get this time?”

 

Gillen waits a few seconds before revealing what she had been hiding and Harry smacks his forehead in embarrassment.

 

Zayn gapes. “You knit? Haz…”

 

“It’s safe to say we’re all speechless.” Niall laughs but there’s an odd expression on his face. Harry ignores it and with a sheepish smile grabs the small jumper out of Gillen’s grasp.

 

“Does your sister have a kid?” Zayn asks after a moment, once he has recovered, “Oh my gosh wait, is she pregnant? Is that why you’ve been sewing baby jumpers and now hurrying to see her? Why didn’t you tell us Haz, we would never judge. I mean there’s literally nothing to judge about it.”

 

Zayn is literally just rambling and Harry’s standing in the middle, clutching a jumper looking sheepish as hell. It would be a wonderful excuse to say Gemma’s pregnant and would also excuse the fact that he’d been knitting but God forsake he change his lie because how many more is he going to have to tell to cover up the initial one? “No, that’s not it. I’m really just visiting her.” Harry plops onto the sofa, safely putting away the jumper on the armrest. Everyone else takes their seats upon seeing Harry do so but Niall’s the only one standing. “Knitting is just a hobby I recently took up and we have to start somewhere I guess.” He shrugs. Gillen’s shoulders are shaking as she laughs behind her cupped palms. “And you have to start small hence the baby jumper.” If he told the real reason, shit’s gonna go down.

 

Niall however, puts in the DVD and doesn’t move from the front of the television. “I just remembered something.” He says but Harry’s eyes are only on his foot that’s tapping repeatedly on the floor, “I’m gonna go get it done. I’ll be back.” Just as he’s speaking the last sentence, he hurries away, slipping on his jacket and opening the door. The others watch him with a shocked expression. Harry smirks and focuses on Captain America playing on the screen.

 

-

 

Simple as it is to think, the day arrives when Harry is supposed to be leaving. Zayn’s at home, doing some art project in his room. The kettle is boiling for a cup of tea that Harry wanted before leaving but now he’s double checking everything. He puts his knapsack on the sofa and hurries to make the tea; Zayn’s bound to want one too.

 

Niall had been increasingly weird the past few days, suddenly running off and being all restless, a nervous wreck all in all. Harry hadn’t bothered much because for all he knows, Niall could be having a girlfriend waiting for him or maybe he’s suddenly gotten memory loss and keeps forgetting things. He only hopes the lad would eventually come forth with his problem.

 

“Zayn!!” Harry calls from the kitchen because time is ticking and he doesn’t want to be late. He hears the footsteps on the wooden floor, vibrating through the house and Zayn’s standing by the doorway of the kitchen in mere seconds. “Okay, nice for you to finally show up.” He thrusts Zayn’s Mickey Mouse mug towards him and rushes into the hall.

 

When Zayn sees the bag, and Harry scurrying about like a cat, he asks, “Is it today that you’re supposed to be going on vacation?”

 

“You are absolutely unaware of the rest of the world.” Harry says in between drinking his tea. He keeps on blowing at it before gulping it down. He pulls the strap of the knapsack over his shoulder. “Alright, I’m gonna go now. Gimme a hug.”

 

Zayn pulls him in with a soft smile and takes the mug from Harry’s hand as he’s leaving. “Oh the car keys!” Harry pulls it out from his pocket and throws it as he’s walking backwards, Zayn stumbling to catch it.

 

“What? You’re not taking the car?”

 

“Taking the bus.” Harry throws him a thumbs and turns around to head towards the abandoned valley, looking behind him one last time at Zayn standing by the front door, mugs in one hand and car keys gripped in the other. He feels bad that he couldn’t tell Niall goodbye so he tries dialling him but Niall’s phone keeps ringing and ringing and no one picks up.

 

He’s walking in the direction of the bus stand and once he is a good distance away from the flat and is totally invisible to Zayn, he takes a detour to the valley. He can see it in the distance, bare and solemn.

 

Harry’s eyes sweep the expanse of the dusty ground he is walking on, in search of the Portkey Gemma had created without authorization. The Ministry wouldn’t be able to know about it anyway so it’s been a damn good secret between the siblings for years and Harry makes sure it’s well hidden. He can’t touch it of course so he had used a branch from a tree to push it into some bushes but time to time nature’s weather changes its place.

 

Luckily he manages to find the cracked clock that once used to be a light blue colour and had belonged to him, sitting a few inches away from the bush. He holds on tightly to his bag and shuffles to sit cross legged on the floor. He cringes when he realizes that his jeans are going to be dusty. Harry takes a look around him to make sure no one is about before carefully reaching forward and holding onto the clock.

 

Harry is immediately being jerked forward and he can’t feel the ground beneath him anymore. He should be totally used to this by now but he still tends to feel quite dizzy after the journey and even pukes sometimes. He squeezes his eyes tight to avoid looking at the blur of colour around him and the harsh wind like force enveloping him. He can’t tune out the droning buzz as he’s being pulled with such a strong force to another place, it would eventually give him a headache. It’s such a bloody dizzying trip travelling by Portkey. It’s like travelling through time. Seconds later, he feels solid ground beneath his feet and when he opens his eyes it takes some time to get used to the surrounding. He’s lolling, swaying dizzily on his feet, the clock now lying on the ground by his feet.

 

He breathes deeply, counting in his mind until he can fully focus, until his vision is clear as day. The two story cottage in front of him not only makes him feel warm and happy but brings forth a flood of joyful memories and the feeling of home. He’s standing in Gemma’s backyard, facing the backside of the cottage where a pretty garden of vines and creepers and all sorts of plants live. Gemma’s knack for Herbology isn’t so bad considering what she creates helps Harry sometimes like recovering from a hangover or healing a really bad wound or fever.

 

The brick walls are a shade of cream with Georgian variant style windows, and the grey-slated roof oddly changes colour during the seasons.He suspects Gemma’s jinxed the roof somehow. But the huge garden that Harry loves most is the pride of the house. During daylight the cottages look pretty and white washed but during the night they give a vibe of being fuzzily warm that the only thing that comes to Harry’s mind is curling into a ball in front of Gemma’s fireplace, cuddled with the cat. He loves admiring the cottage at night, simply goes out on to the street and stares at the line of cottages.

                               

The neighbouring houses are the exact same as Gemma’s except the only variation is the style. There are the one in a ten wizards and witches who love decorating their homes to look so pristine that they literally just go overboard with it. Harry had been nineteen when he had seen Mrs. Glady’s home - which is three roads down – look like a the candy house in Hansel and Gretel during Christmas.

 

He staggers in his first few steps as he walks towards the back door. Gemma is undoubtedly not at home considering that she never has been every time Harry visits except on the rare occasions declared at holidays. With an eager intent of seeing Dusty the cat again, Harry twists the doorknob and enters the cottage that immediately wraps him in a warm embrace. The house smells of yeast and bread, cakes and biscuits. Gosh, he can smell the fire.

 

The inside of the cottage is neat, snug and welcoming, armchairs and tablecloths all striped. The curtains are of a pretty ivory and screams home to Harry. He wishes his flat looks like this but really; it’s all Gemma’s magic skills that keeps the place neat. He passes the kitchen on the way to the hall so he stops and peeks, sees a pot on the stove where a spoon is stirring with a mind of its own. Harry’s lips quirk.

 

There’s a soft _meow_ coming from the corner and when Harry looks with interest, it’s Dusty, sitting on the window sill, with her tail wrapped around her legs, looking at him in a way as if she recognizes him. “Dusty!” Harry almost squeals, delight labouring his eyes. She hops from the sill and makes her way over to him as he crouches to pet at her. She purrs as he rubs her back, tickling the under of her chin. It’s so good to be back here, it’s one of the many things he misses when he’s in the Muggle world. He hears a thud from upstairs but Dusty only continues to meow louder.

 

“Finnegan?” It’s Gemma! She’s home! Harry stands up joyfully, hurrying to the stairs where he sees Gemma at the top landing. Her hair has purple high lights and she’s gotten a fair bit thinner. Her brown eyes light up at the sight of him. They both rush to pull each other into their arms. “Gosh it’s you!! I thought Finnegan was home early!”

 

Harry laughs, feeling happy. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home.”

 

They pull apart and Gemma slaps him lightly on the shoulder, “Its school holidays silly.” He grins at her and deposits his bag on an armchair. “We’ll be leaving in the evening so I wanted us to have a proper meal or two and spend some time here since you won’t be staying for long after the match.”

 

Harry sits at the wooden table in the kitchen as Gemma takes out a batch of baked biscuits from the oven she had magically charmed to work. It’s impressive, Finnegan brings home electrical stuff and together they make them work without electricity. “How’s Finnegan?” He asks, petting at Dusty who had jumped onto the table.

 

“Good. He’ll be home before two. What about you? How have you been doing little brother? And how’s everything back in London?”

 

“I’m good.” Harry shrugs, brushing his hand over Dusty’s fur, “The lads are fine too and London is London I guess. What about you though?”

 

“Teaching is not that bad.” Gemma replies, taking a seat opposite him and pushing a plate of biscuits towards him, “It’s perfectly wonderful. The only downside is that there’s a lot of marking to do and homework to assign which makes it difficult to spend as much time as I please with Finn.”

 

Harry has never seen the inside of Hogwarts, not even seen how the meals appear on the tables as Gemma had described, not even the people in the portraits in the dormitories who ask for the passcode. Sometimes the thought saddens him and he would look dejected for awhile, envisioning what life would be like if he had gone to Hogwarts. He sighs and nods, taking a bite of the ginger newt. It’s his favourite. “You need to give me the recipe for this.”

 

“And have all your friends scream at the shape of it?”

 

“Oh shut up, it’s not that bad.”

 

“There’s a book somewhere there.” Gemma points at the mantelpiece in the kitchen which has been magically jinxed to hold a stack of books. “It’s got a lot of recipes; you can borrow it if you want.”

 

“Thanks. I’ll just write it down instead because the book title is going to be a dead giveaway.” It makes them both laugh and Dusty doesn’t even bother looking up from her spot, Harry’s free hand scratching her back.

 

-

 

Finnegan comes home at half past one and Harry watches Gemma wait by the door for him. They greet each other with a kiss and Finnegan turns with a beam to face Harry, greeting him too. They launch into a conversation as Finnegan dresses into something casual and Gemma finishes her cooking, Dusty making an appearance now and then with a garden gnome held in her mouth. Harry giggles when he sees it and helps Gemma take the gnome away, making sure that it doesn’t bite them. Gemma shows him how to get rid of it, in reality he thinks it’s sort of harsh to do that to a creature until Gemma reminds him that they’re pests who bite you.

 

Over a lunch of shepherd’s pie with garden salad and pumpkin juice, Gemma asks Finnegan about his day, where he works at Gringotts. It’s something the two of them do, talk about each other’s day but they include Harry in the conversation too, Finnegan has oftentimes told Harry he is family to him too and the two men have no distaste for each other. He unlike the siblings is a pure blood which is not really something they converse about; Finnegan deems it to be poor behaviour to judge one on their blood status.

 

Harry nestles on the softest sofa after lunch and reads Gemma’s copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ whilst eating the watermelon strips he had cut up. His sister and Finnegan are upstairs, taking their usual after lunch nap and had offered the spare bedroom which he had declined but he can feel the sleepy heaviness of his eyelids.

 

-

 

Late afternoon approaches quicker than expected and Harry is pulled awake by the cuckooing of a clock. It’s hanging on the wall and the bird keeps popping out and in. He yawns rather sleepily, wishing he could get that thing to shut up. The bustling upstairs tells him that both Gems and her boyfriend are awake and possibly getting ready. Dusty paws at him when he sits up and finds the book lying on the side of the sofa and the remnants of the melon strips dried up. He picks up the cat and seats her on his lap, stroking her spine.

 

“Harry you up?” Gemma shouts from upstairs and Harry yells back a gruff ‘ _Yes’._

 

They each haul their own rucksacks and leave the cottage for the nearest Portkey. The area is crowded when they arrive, wizards and witches of all kinds and kids too. “They’re waiting for everyone.” Gemma whispers to him as they near the Portkey. When Harry raises an eyebrow, she explains further. “Each area has only one Portkey so whoever is travelling by this method should all leave together.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.” Gemma nods, “Make sure you hold on tight, a finger will do and hold onto either of us.” When Harry nods in agreement, she takes Finnegan’s hand in hers and twines her fingers with Harry’s.

 

They don’t have to wait for long until everyone has gathered. One family makes their way over, huffing tiredly and gives all them a small smile. They all crowd around the dirty tablecloth which has been charmed as a Portkey. It’s been done thoughtfully though because there’s enough room for all of them to touch a part of it.

 

Harry feels the same tug as he had felt when he travelled from London to Hogsmeade. It’s just as dizzying and irritating to his eyes and head. Thankfully Gemma is gripping his hand so he deems it safe to shut his eyes and trusts himself not to let go of the cloth.

 

They land light headedly on their feet, above solid ground. The kids are the only ones who have landed flat on their faces, evidently travelling for the first time by Portkey. They all dust themselves despite not being soiled. They’re standing on a moor which stretches a long distance and it’s foggy enough that Finnegan has to wipe his glasses before they walk again. One of the older men in the group bundles up the tablecloth and leads them towards a pair of attentive looking wizards.

 

One of the wizards is holding a thick roll of parchment and a quill, peering at Harry’s group over the bridge of his glasses. The other is looking at a small pocket watch in his hand. “Right on time people!” The wizard with the watch greets them but he sounds grumpy and Harry has no doubt that dealing with a load of wizards and witches for a whole day can be a gruelling task. One by one the man with the parchment directs the people to their campsites.

 

Harry, Gemma and Finnegan are the last and when they approach the men, they peer at them almost curiously before the wizard with the parchment asks their name.

 

“Hannock.” Finnegan provides.

 

“Hannock…Hannock…” The wizard mutters under his breath as he skims the evident list of names on the parchment.

 

“The third field.” The wizard finally says, “A mile and half worth’s walk.”

 

“Thank you.” Gemma gives them a smile and they set off across the moor. Fifteen minutes into their walk they meet the site manager Mr. Frost at a small cottage. He gives them a map and directs them to their booked campsite. The man looks almost vacant, distant looking, functioning like a robot. They pay him with the Muggle money Harry provides and starts for their campsite.

 

Exactly as the wizard had instructed them, the place of their campsite is a mile and a half. It takes a lot of energy out of them walking on a moor, considering it’s hazy. When they do finally stop, they find a sign dug into the ground with the word _Hannock_ etched onto it. The empty space is big enough to put up a tent for the three of them. Harry scours the area, impressed by the tents neighbouring them, some of them looking too fancy for a Muggle tent.

 

“So the tent?” Harry whirls around to find Gemma and Finnegan glancing slyly at each other.

 

“Here.” Gemma says and she fumbles inside bag. Harry is amused and puzzled at the same time. He doesn’t remember lugging a tent from the cottage. But the next second Gemma drops her bag onto the floor and Finnegan joins her before they’re both hauling something out of that small bag.

 

Harry runs a palm over his face, laughing hysterically because how had he not realized. He joins them to help take out the tent from Gemma’s bag. “I didn’t know bags this deep existed.”

 

“Magic.” Gemma clicks her tongue, “But we have to put it up without using magic and the two of us know how to do that. Finnegan can provide a rough hand.” He salutes them as a way of obliging and Harry and Gemma set to work to put up the _not-so-muggle_ tent.

 

Once they’re done, Harry’s proud to say the least. He had finally managed to make sense of all those poles and pegs after all the camping he had done with the boys. They give each other a high five. Gemma makes her way inside the tent first and Finnegan follows with Harry right behind them.

 

As soon as he steps foot inside, he marvels at the interior because it’s not a fucking tent inside! It’s a bloody house! Like a cottage actually. “It’s been years,” He begins, looking around with delight at the lounge, “And I am still baffled by stuff like this. Who knew you had a house in that bag of yours.” Finnegan laughs, joining him, Gemma shaking her head at the two of them.

 

Harry explores every inch of the tent, the bathroom, the kitchen, even the two bedrooms and runs his hands along the wooden furniture and flower pots lining the mantelpiece. “I haven’t seen anyone supporting Britain yet.”

 

“The further you go from here, like sort of where it’s darker and by the forest, you can find groups of tents collected together like families, they do a lot of decoration.” Gemma replies from the kitchen.

 

“I’ll be happy to take you Harry.” Finnegan peeks from the bedroom, a scarf clutched in his hand.

 

“Yeah. That would be a good idea.” Harry agrees eagerly, “Shall we go now?”

 

“Bring some firewood when you’re coming back.” Gemma tells the two of them, “We’ll be cooking dinner outside before heading for the match.”

 

“Sounds good.” Finnegan kisses her, Harry turning away at the last moment and then the two of them are leaving the tent. “How long have you been a fan of the Quidditch team Harry?”

 

Harry shrugs, “Ever since I knew that a Quidditch World Cup existed I guess.” Finnegan nods along with him as they trek, “I simply just support whichever team from Britain plays really. But it’s the first time I am present for a match and it sounds so cool from everything I’ve read.”

 

“Yeah. We’ve got some of the best players. We’ve always won and I am proud to be British.” Finnegan holds a hand to his chest as he says so.

 

By the end of the land, closest to the forest, they find the group of tents that are bathed in stripes of red and white which represent the British Quidditch team. It’s dazzling! There are flags hanging with from every tent and the people are gathered together in groups, chatting and being all excited that Harry himself can feel the anticipation. Harry doesn’t know any of them but Finnegan does so he stands a few feet away as Finnegan goes to greet some of the people. They look like one big happy family, gathered together.

 

-

 

When they get back to their tent, firewood piled up in their arms, it’s nearing eight. It’s a complete buzz about the campsite. All sorts of wizards and witches are walking about and they make no point in hiding their magical abilities. The whispers have risen to an excited and loud chatter that reaches the inside of tents. Children are running about, playing, and their shouts are even more deafening. There are salespeople pushing carts with various magical things that include both food and plastic items.

 

Harry watches all of this while he sits on a big log outside the tent and all of it is so calming. He feels part of something big as if it is a family celebration or something. He jerks when something is dropped onto his lap and looks up to see Gemma staring at him. It’s a small leather pouch she had dropped on him, containing coins. She nudges his foot with hers and gestures to the carts. “Go buy yourself something.”

 

Jiggling the pouch of coins, Harry excitedly skips over to a passing cart and examines the items piled on it. The food cart has all sorts of sweets from _Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans_ to _Chocolate Frogs._ Harry gets a _Licorice Wand_ and a packet of Every Flavour Beans. His tongue struggles in his mouth at the idea of tasting them, cringing when he realizes _Every Flavour_ means literally every flavour.

 

He stops a cart that has flags of the countries playing at the match. The man explains that the flags sing the country’s national anthem when they are waved. Harry buys a red and white striped scarf with the British team logo on each end and wraps it around his neck then and there. He touches the glass snitches that light up in the colours of the playing teams, violet for Germany and red for Britain. When the wizard shows him the collectible figures of the famous players and how they can walk, Harry lets him place one on his palm. He quietly giggles at the ticklish feeling as the player strolls over the expanse of his palm.

 

Having spent half of the money Gemma had given him, he goes back to the tent. He had strayed from their campsite moving from one cart to another cart in fascination. He’s decked in the scarf he had bought and a hat with similar colours. “You’re having fun.” Gemma remarks from where she’s making sausages on the fire. Harry shakes some of the Bertie Botts beans onto her open palm when Finnegan walks out of the tent wearing the same hat Harry is. He fixes the other in his hand on Gemma’s head. “We look like we’re ready for some Quidditch!” Gemma throws a passionate fist into the air and they follow.

 

Harry has an object that looks very similar to Binoculars in his. Finnegan is washing dishes and cups from the pail of water they had managed to get filled from a tap in the second field. “Did you know this is like a camera?” He asks Gemma, toying with the object. He looks through it and presses some buttons, “It’s bloody great! I can watch anything in slow motion. The Muggle world has none of this shit.”

 

Gemma cackles and moves closer to him, “That’s why the wizarding world exists.”

 

“So the photographers use things like this then?”

 

“They’re called Omniculars.” Gemma corrects Harry, piling the sausages onto the plates Finnegan is holding out. “They don’t exactly use an Omniculars but the cameras we have here are sort of very similar.”

 

“Ahhh.” Harry nods in understanding but he still can’t stop toying with the Omniculars. Such a fascinating object and he had only discovered it now.

 

-

 

Dinner is a breeze and Harry is resting on the log outside. The breeze is cold enough to tamp down any extra body heat that he decided it felt much nicer to be out in the dark with the wind and the people. Gemma and Finnegan are inside the tent and Harry hadn’t fancied the idea of hearing anything obnoxious inside. That’s when a loud gong sound echoes all around and Harry jumps to his feet. He runs inside the tent and frantically calls out. “What the hell is that?”

 

“It’s time to go.” Gemma and Finnegan shout at the same time which makes them burst into laughter after a beat of amused silence.

                              

They follow the path lit by red and violet lanterns. They’re carrying their own red ones and chatting as they go along, tripping on protruding tree roots even if there aren’t any trees visible. Harry can hear some of the people singing which he believes are the teams anthems.

                               

The stadium they enter is bigger than any stadium Harry had ever seen back in Muggle London. Not even the football stadiums are this big. Its acres of land that provide enough space for flying and a fuck ton of seats. He’s sure this many people don’t go to a football match. There are thousands and thousands of wizards and witches, more than a hundred thousand he believes.

                               

“Our seats are in the eight thousands.” Finnegan shouts over the rambunctious sound. The Ministry wizard who checks their tickets, directs them with a finger to the stairs and their level where the seats are.

                               

“Man this is huge.” Harry mumbles as they climb the stairs. It’s going to take ages to climb. He wonders what harm elevators would do until he realizes that electricity isn’t used here.

                               

On their way to their seats, Harry studies everything. He notices the witches dealing with their notorious kids and grumpy wizards who won’t talk to anyone. Then there are the wizards who howl with laughter and swig a bottle of something that Gemma tells him is Firewhiskey. He notices the elves sitting with their masters and some saving seats for their masters. It reminds him of Garter the elf he sees on occasion who lives in Gemma’s neighbour’s house. He had knit the jumper for the elf because seeing the little thing wear a pillow case was heart wrenching.

                               

The seats and boxes get filled eventually over an hour or two. Finnegan meets a lot of people he knows and Gemma happens to know some of them too. She introduces Professor Jalopine to Harry, the history teacher at Hogwarts. She had said that Professor Davahand was somewhere here too but Harry had no intention of seeing the man. It would only bring back old memories.

                               

The German National Team Mascots make their appearance in the form of some type of bird. “They’re vulgar birds.” Gemma says with a face of disgust and Harry watches as Finnegan mirrors hers. The birds do a round of flying and forming the name of the team before they disperse and then the British National Team Mascots are being introduced. They whoop in delight as two Phoenixes fly into sight and hover in mid air. Harry is transfixed at the sight of them, completely entranced at their magnificent beauty. The two birds breathe out fire, a great red curling wave. They watch as the fire takes the form of a Phoenix itself which then bursts into flames. The people in red and white shake their flags and scream; Harry joins them, excitement dancing in his eyes.

 

A moment later the fire shrinks and Harry watches open mouthed as the two birds become flames themselves. A wizard on a broom is immediately by the side of the burning Phoenixes, holding a bowl shaped pyre. Harry watches through his Omniculars as the ashes fall onto the pyre and the cheering of the crowd grows louder as two chicks emerge from the ash minutes later, the wizard carrying them off of the field. “I just saw the rebirth of Phoenixes.” Harry mouths, eyes wide.

 

“Pretty cool isn’t it?” Gemma smiles.

 

“They’re very expensive.” Finnegan adds.

         

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome the German National Quidditch Team!!!” The wizard whom Harry can’t see, announces, “Todt!!” A figure on a broomstick zooms from the entrance and onto the field, dressed in violet robes. “Blijk! Brand! Glockenspieler!” It’s all exciting as Harry watches through his Omniculars, each player flying out onto the pitch, doing stunts, as the crowd chants and yells. “Eldritch! Wiel! Weiss!!” Gemma is jumping up and down beside him in excitement and Finnegan’s knuckles are turning white from where he’s clutching at the railing.

         

“Now!!!” The announcer’s voice booms, “Welcome the British National Quidditch Team!! Wave your flags for Lucas!!” Harry can feel the energy throbbing in his veins as he watches the player fly onto the field, opposite of the German team, dressed in red and white robes. He does a somersault on his broom. “Hawskworth! Calder! Whiteney! Horan!” Harry sees the players follow each other’s tails one by one, doing a sort of rotation on their rooms. They join Stanley Lucas in the air. Three brunettes and one blonde. Harry zooms in closer, yelling along with everyone else as he watches his favourite players get on the pitch and….

         

He nearly fucking drops his Omniculars at the sight of bloody Niall fucking Horan on a broom beside the team. “Gems.” Harry whispers. He doesn’t know whether what he is seeing is for real or an illusion. Niall Horan! Niall Horan, his best friend, best mate, fucking food hoarder is on the pitch! On a broomstick, playing for Britain and he’s a fucking wizard!!! Harry hadn’t even known!! And all his weird limbo shit makes sense to Harry now. But then he gets distracted as the rest of the players are being called. “Payne! Aaaaaaaand Tomlinson!!”

         

Harry’s breathe hitches and Gemma elbows him. He watches as Louis Tomlinson, the team’s captain zooms by with Liam Payne, their robes flapping about them due to the speed. All of them are on Firebolts! Harry’s feeling so much excitement and his blood is pumping too fast for his mind to keep up that he’s sure he’ll fall off his seat. The referee Hayden McFee is introduced who opens the crate containing the four balls and the game BEGINS!!

         

He follows the path of the Quaffle as its handed from one player to the next and the Bludgers are fucking fast, he fears for the players and the Snitch – it’s nowhere in sight. But most of all, he just watches Louis Tomlinson, the team’s seeker. He’s drifting by the sidelines on the lookout for the snitch when the German team’s seeker Konrad Wiess sneers past him. Harry wants to punch the guy in his gut till his insides spill out.

         

The players are too fast for the commentator to keep track and Harry is impressed. Watching Niall fly with the Quaffle tucked under his arm and zig zag past the other team before throwing it to Eleanor Calder is mind blowing. Harry’s never played Quidditch before of course but he’s heard and read of it and loved the British Quidditch Team and knew the players well enough. Niall had to be the only new member in the team and for someone new, he’s kicking arse.

         

The Chasers duck and throw and fly past like jets. The chasers on the British team pretend to be throwing the ball in one direction while zipping the other way and Payne looking fucking muscled, guards the ring and has so far managed to prevent the Quaffle from getting past him.

 

Both sides are fighting hard for a goal and the blackboard still reads ENGLAND : 0, GERMANY : 0. The beaters are putting so much effort into protecting their team players and aiding the Bludgers in the direction of the other team. The moment when Iyla Hawksworth hits the Bludger coming at Eleanor Calder, it goes straight for Hager Brand and the guy flips around at the last minute, hanging upside down on his broom which has Harry laughing for a couple of seconds.

         

The snitch hasn’t still made an appearance and Louis is patient as ever, patrolling the field and Harry can see him clenching his jaw through his Omniculars. The other team’s seeker seems to somehow be watching Louis instead of looking out for the snitch. Finnegan is the one who explains it to them. “He’s watching Tomlinson because Tomlinson always catches the snitch so it’s easier to watch him. That way Weiss can find the snitch easily.”

         

“He’s got some brains but that’s lazy work.”

         

“Yeah.” Gemma and Finnegan agree with a shake of their head.

         

There’s uproar, a thunderous roar of applause and Harry realizes that Britain had scored their first goal! He joins the supporters in cheering the team. He hears Finnegan say that Calder had done a superb job of flipping midair and sailing the Quaffle right through the ring. Britain scoring their first goal doesn’t go smoothly though because the game starts getting fierce, feisty. The teams keep aiming the Bludgers at each other and they’re merciless as they try to grab the Quaffle from their opponents.

         

The thing about the British team is that the players are somehow connected with each other and Harry had no doubt that they’re great friends. They seem to understand each other, listens to the instructions provided by each other as they fly. It’s what makes the team superb. Harry has to give points to Eleanor Calder, she’s a vicious chaser, doesn’t give a damn how she gets the Quaffle as long as it’s in her hands. No one’s ever been able to take it out of her hands.

         

The blackboard reads ENGLAND: 1, GERMANY: 0 now. The players are dodging each other and passing the Quaffle from one hand to another. Louis Tomlinson has moved positions and has begun to round the field instead of being in one place. The Germans have initiated a pattern of crowding around whichever British chaser has the Quaffle and thus making it harder for the Chaser to throw the ball.

         

One of the German’s are in possession of the Quaffle, the German supporters whoop in delight. With tight anticipation Harry watches the German’s pass the Quaffle and then Eleanor makes an appearance whilst dodging a Bludger headed towards her. She ducks past a Chaser, rounds Niall and Charles and they follow her in a line. She heads straight for the circle where the players of the German team are surrounded around their Chaser with the Quaffle. One of the British beater’s hits at a Bludger with so much force that it goes rocketing right into the circle beside Eleanor and she moves sideways to let the Bludger do its job which is dispersing the group. Taking her chance she gets in between the two chasers as they try to throw the Quaffle. She grabs the ball and flies for it, they all shout loudly cheering Eleanor on. As if Eleanor having the Quaffle is some sort of signal, Niall flies towards the opposite team’s goal, Charles hovering a distance away. Charles catches the Quaffle neatly when Eleanor throws it to him and without a second’s hesitation he sends it soaring over to Niall.

         

“Fucking hell!” Harry shouts, grinning so wide that he’s sure it’s going to be permanent.

         

But Niall is surrounded, closed in and has nowhere to go. But then Harry watches as he drops from his broom with the Quaffle in hand. It takes everyone by surprise but he falls right back on his broom which had followed him. He’s free; he throws the Quaffle to Charles, makes a hand motion to him and heads towards the goal where their opponents are facing them in a horizontal line.

         

Niall bends forward on his broom, a determination set across his features and… he’s heading right for them, right into the sea of opponents but at the last minute he stands on the broom, just a few seconds… that it feels like a blur of him standing.       

 

“The snitch is here!!!” Gemma shouts beside him but Harry is too focused on Niall playing to spare a glance at the snitch or Louis Tomlinson. Niall jumps across the horizontal line of players, soaring as if he has wings and Harry sees Charles throw the Quaffle towards him which he catches and with a difficult and strained somersault he throws the ball right into the goal.

         

“He’s gonna fucking fall!” Harry nearly shouts seeing the lad falling fast, towards the ground. A zing, a second and the broom snatches Niall on itself.

         

The stadium bursts into cheer and applause, like a volcano erupting. The whole place vibrates and Harry has to almost close his ears. “Genuis!!!” Harry shouts madly.

               

The scoreboard shows a bright and proud ENGLAND: 2 now and Harry trains his Omniculars on Louis who is racing for the snitch, Konrad Weiss right on his tail.

 

“I have never been this pumped!” Harry shouts over the noise to Gemma and Finnegan who nod in equal enthusiasm.

         

“TOMLINSON IS GOING FOR THE SNITCH!!” The commentator announces, “WEISS IS RIGHT BEHIND!!” Harry squints to find the snitch, it’s a wee little thing and its gold exterior does nothing for the sight considering there’s so much light from the stadium that it’s easy to camouflage the snitch. The commentator starts announcing the position of the Quaffle and who’s in custody of it. The game is a rumbling tsunami, wild and fierce as the Germans’ desperation grows and the British keeps scoring. It’s 2:0 and the snitch is still within the sight of Louis Tomlinson. Konrad is however trying to slam against Louis to get to the snitch but the smaller lad isn’t having it. He fights just as determinedly, moving out of the way when Konrad tries to strike him but still not gaining on the snitch.

         

This time the Germans’ score their first goal and their supporters are the ones cheering while Harry glares daggers at the team. His arms ache from holding the Omniculars up for too long so he lowers them and takes the bottle of water Gemma is holding out for him. He takes a swig from it and looks around him at the spectators standing and cheering.

         

Louis has lost the snitch again by the looks of it but Harry can’t tell what his expression is. Gemma’s using his Omniculars to watch the game. Her hair’s stuck wetly to her neck and when Harry touches his own mop of curls, he finds them to be wet with sweat too. He collects his hair and ties it into a bun using the black band around his wrist. He pats the bun a bit and twists it so it’s sort of loose and comfortable.

         

He bends to whisper in Gemma’s ear. “Has anything happened yet?”

         

“I feel a goal on the way.” She shouts back in his ear, making him cringe.

         

“Jeez you nearly burst my ear drum.” Gemma laughs. She looks so happy, literally everyone is. Finnegan has got an arm around her waist and they’re sharing Harry’s Omniculars.

         

Five minutes of the game pass by without a goal, without the snitch and it feels as if the entire stadium is on their toes. Harry gets back his Omniculars and watches through it again. That’s when a spike in the game develops seconds later. The players might have felt the slack too.

         

Just as Charles is on the verge of scoring a goal, the commentator’s voice booms with the announcement of the reappearance of the snitch. This time Harry points his sole focus on Louis Tomlinson and the sneaky little snitch. The game picks up over the next twenty minutes with Britain scoring nine more goals and with Germany having scored three. But Louis isn’t headed in the direction of the snitch which Harry notices because Louis is flying somewhere else, Weiss right on his tail.

         

The snitch buzzes past Weiss, right in front of his eyes and Weiss changes his direction. He stops following Louis and starts following the snitch. Harry sees the mocking look Weiss throws at Louis’ back. However Louis seems to have noticed what has happened and does not seem bothered at all. Harry is intrigued, tuning out the shouts and cheers and the rest of the game, he focuses on what Louis is up to.

         

That’s when Harry makes head and tail of Louis’ master plan. While Weiss is following the snitch, Louis has changed his course and is following the snitch from the opposite side. So Weiss and Louis are both heading for the snitch from both directions with the Snitch in the middle of them.

        

With the snitch speeding towards Louis and Louis speeding towards the snitch, it feels much more likely that Louis is the one going to end up with it. But the closer the two players get with a good probability of crashing into each other, Louis pulls at the head of his broom and plummets upwards. The snitch had tricked the players, flying upwards at the last second, leaving the risk of the collision in the hands of the seekers. Harry can hear the loud applause beside him, it’s probably a goal. Louis had been smart enough to fly upwards at the last second just like the snitch and….he’s holding the fucking snitch in his hands. He’s waving it in the air and it seems as if everyone has noticed it only then.

         

It’s the end of the game obviously! Britain has gotten by two hundred and sixty points to fifty!! The scoreboard flashes ENGLAND: 260, GERMANY: 50. It’s a crazy buzz in the stadium; people are cheering and throwing their caps in the air. They’re dancing and shouting, it’s as if the world is coming to an end but instead is a happy prospect. “ENGLAND WINS!!!” The announcer shouts. Harry can’t help the smile that grazers his lips either. Gemma is gripping onto his arm and jumping up and down with him in delight. Finnegan is throwing fist pumps in the air. Harry takes one last look through his Omniculars at the radiant smile Louis is sporting as the players touch the ground.

         

They watch as the teams make their way to the box, the English team grinning madly. The cup is made of gold with a snitch on top, held by the Minister for Magic as he and several other important men beside him shake the hands of the players and congratulate them on their brave competence. Harry’s eyes crinkle when Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan take the cup, the others getting a chance to touch before they’re all raising it high for the crowd to see. It makes everyone give a loud standing ovation but they’re all just screaming their lungs out and jumping on their numb feet.

         

When they’re finally making their way down the stairs, Harry can feel the exhaustion set in. He can feel his numb legs and aching arms, and sore throat from all the shouting. Gemma and Finnegan are apparently feeling the same way too by the looks of their slumped posture and lazy steps. “I’m definitely going to fall back into bed.” Gemma groans.

         

“I think I’d like some Firewhiskey actually.” Finnegan says, wrapping his arms around Gemma to support her. “What do you think Harry? Fancy a drink at the after party?”

         

“There’s an after party?” Harry asks quirking an eyebrow. He uncaps the bottle of water for a drink.

         

“Yeah.” Finnegan nods, not taking his eyes off the stairs, “It’s just groups of people having some fun outside. Not everyone joins in.”

         

“I’m coming.” Gemma raises a hand, “I deserve a drink and a nice chat with me gals.”

         

“Sounds fantastic.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows at Finnegan, “I’m gonna have a shower first.”

         

But that’s not what happens. Harry spots the players outside the stadium. They’re making their way into a two big tents, a blend of red and white and violet robes, carrying their brooms on their shoulders. He has to see Niall and he wants to see if he can get a photograph or something with Louis. This is his one and only chance.

         

“Guys,” He calls out to them while he keeps his eyes on the players, “Do you mind if I like speak to Niall?”

         

“Wait, no talking to Tomlinson?” Gemma asks. Harry turns to see her with an amused smirk.

         

“Niall Horan, Gems.” Harry chuckles and he sees the moment realization dawns on her, “My best mate is a wizard. I’m gonna go talk to him and um also to Louis. Yeah.”

         

“Do you know how to come back?” Finnegan questions.

         

“Harry scratches the back of his neck. Gemma thrusts a lamp towards him. “Niall will escort you.”

         

“Oh yeah. Sure. Thanks.” He kisses her forehead and watches as the two of them descend down the hill, along with the rest of the supporters back to their campsite.

         

Getting a catch on his breathe, Harry turns around to follow the trail towards the tent. It makes him nervous to be in the midst of so many famous players, makes him fidgety in case he attracts attention to himself. He picks up his courage anyway and slightly pushes open the flap of the tent so he can peer inside. It’s a hub bub of voices inside, players in joyful mode. Some of them are getting out of their robes, others are merely chatting while drinking from a glass tumbler. Harry is sure it’s Firewhiskey. The team deserves it anyway after their brilliant performance.

         

Among all of that, he sees a blonde head bobbing. Niall is excitedly chatting to Tomlinson and Payne. He takes a step inside and no one gives him a glance, so deeming it safe to enter, Harry starts walking towards Niall. Payne of course does notice him the closer he approaches them and seems to have a confused look about him. “Umm…hi?” Liam sort of says when Harry is right behind Niall. It makes Louis and Niall both whip around to face Harry.

         

Harry is totally shocked to see Louis upfront, the sight of him prods at a memory at the back of his mind. But then there’s also Niall who’s looking wide eyed as if he had just swallowed a tortoise. “Harry?”

         

“Niall you fucking wanker!” Harry slaps him on the back when he pulls him into a tight hug. Niall’s still tense, unsure and surprised, obviously, “I can’t believe you!”

         

“Wait,” Niall pulls away and gives Harry a onceover, “You’re a wizard too?”

         

“What do you think?” Niall starts laughing and he doesn’t even muffle it, drawing attention towards them. He clutches his stomach and almost falls to the floor from the force of his laughter. Liam and Louis somehow seem to be amused by it and Harry’s just grinning.

         

“God, I was fucking scared when I saw you here.” Niall explains in between bursts of laughter and from the corner of his eye, Harry can see Louis watching him. “The first thought that ran through my mind when I saw you were whether you had followed me to the Portkey or summat.”

         

“You travelled by Portkey?” Harry gawks, “I thought players flew in on their brooms.”

         

Niall winces even though Harry’s sure he said nothing offensive. “Didn’t fancy kicking off on me broom in broad daylight, I’ve got a neighbour who’s all eyes and ears.”

         

“Oh.” Harry shrugs in understanding and squeezes his shoulder, “Well, we’ve both been keeping secrets but I found it odd how you suddenly did crazy things as if someone had control over you. Let’s hope Zayn isn’t one too, it’d be too much for me to handle.” Niall huffs out a laugh and straightens himself. “So you’re new to the team? You played bloody brilliant by the way.”

         

“Thanks.” Niall flushes, “And yes I’m new. Best shit I’ve played in a long while. And those times I had sudden stuff to do was when I had to go for training.” Liam shuffles beside them which brings Niall out of his thoughts and he stutters to introduce the two boys. “This is Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson.”

         

“Ah yes.” Harry extends a hand for both of them to shake, “Remarkable playing both of you.” He compliments but his eyes are on Louis. He looks so much more handsome up close, his eyelashes are much more visible and longer and his hair. Fuck! Harry wants to touch his hair for some odd reason. It has such a brown sheen except for the sweat of course. He looks away when Louis catches him watching. He flushes and tunes into what Niall is saying.

         

“Do you want to join us for a round of drinks Haz?”

         

That’s when he remembers Gemma and Finnegan. “Actually, my sister and her boyfriend are at the campsite and I told them I’d be right back once I saw you. They’re having their own group party over there.”

         

Niall’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “Oh we’ll join them…if that’s alright?”

         

“Yeah sure!” Harry smiles, “Come along. I don’t really remember how to go back so it’s good you’re coming.”

         

“Boys?” Niall turns to Liam and Louis and they both nod simultaneously.

         

The three boys hurry around the tent in search of their belongings while Harry stands by a corner in wait for them.

         

“So Harry.” Louis says, stuffing his clothes into a bag. “You and Niall have been friends for long?”

         

He fumbles with the strap of his Omniculars, wishing he had his camera with him so he could ask Louis for a photograph. “Some years, maybe six or seven.”

         

“And neither of you were aware the other was a wizard?”

         

“No. I mean, Niall had his weird moments when he’d suddenly flee but I don’t think either of us even thought about it.”

         

Louis hums and pulls off his robe to reveal himself wearing a pair of skin tight jeans and a t-shirt. Harry swallows and looks away. “Where are you from?”

         

“Barnton.”

         

“I’m from Upper Flagley.”

         

“Yeah, I know.” He immediately goes red when Louis smirks at him. He’s a huge fan and how could he not be when it’s someone attractive as Louis? “Sorry, this is weird. I just…I’m a huge fan.”

         

The man’s eyes crinkle and he laughs. “It’s alright. Let’s go shall we?” He throws an arm around Harry’s shoulders just as Liam and Niall join them at the tent entrance. Together the four of them trek down the hill towards the campsite using the light from Harry’s lamp.

         

“So Gemma’s a witch too?” Niall tries to make conversation as they manoeuvre through the creepy forest.

         

“Yeah. What about Greg?”

         

“He’s not.” He sounds sad when he says it. “Does she live here then Harry?”

         

“Yes, she teaches at Hogwarts.” Harry supplies.

         

“What does she teach?” Louis pipes up.

         

“Herbology.” At the mention of it, the three of them does a chorus of “Ahhhh.”

         

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say none of you like the subject.”

        

  “Why? Do you?” Louis prods at Harry’s shoulder.

        

  “I—umm.” He racks his brain to come up with a good explanation. “It’s interesting innit? All the plants and all that.”

         

“You’re the odd one out H!” Niall’s shout reaches him from the other side.

         

“Well there’s gotta be an odd one in a group and I’d say I make a good one. You better fill me in on you being a wizard and all Ni, when we get home.” Harry shrugs and replies before addressing Liam whom he has noticed has been quiet the whole time. ”What about you Liam? Do you live here?”

                               

“Yeah.” Harry can’t see if he nods or not but either way, Liam continues, “My whole family is magical and we live a few houses from Louis’ but I have my own flat now in Hogsmeade.”

                               

“Louis’ a pure blood too.” Niall provides, “It’s just you and me Harry, Muggle-borns we are.” When Harry doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Don’t worry; these two chaps here haven’t got a problem with blood statuses.”

                               

Feeling relief course through him, Harry asks. “So you don’t live here then?”

                               

“Nah.” Niall scoffs, “Me family is in Ireland as you know. Had to come here to attend Hogwarts so I settled down here in me eighteenth year and got used to it, besides the wizarding world in London is pretty fucking cool! I’ll live somewhere in Hogsmeade or summat the day I get married.”

                               

“Sounds about right.” Louis chortles.

                               

“I think it’s a lovely dream Louis.” Liam opposes Louis.

                               

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis waves his hand in the air, jostling Harry in the process, “You and Sophia, the perfect couple with the wonderful dreams. You’re too sappy for my taste Payno!”

                               

It makes them all laugh. Harry’s never had a good laugh like he does now. He finds it bloody charming how sassy Louis can be. His bad body coordination though nearly has both him and Louis toppling on the murky moor if it had not been for the fact that Niall had reached out to catch them on instinct.

                               

After helping the boys deposit their bags and brooms in the tent - Harry had offered them the second bedroom that he wasn’t planning on using - they find Gemma and Finnegan amid a circle of very rowdy and drunk people. It’s noisy of course but none of them seem to give a damn and apparently Niall doesn’t either because he immediately inserts himself into the gang. The group immediately swallows up the three boys and tells them how good their game was, they’re all literally in what Harry likes to call _the fan mode_. Gemma nearly knocks Niall over when she flings herself at him with a shout of delight that sounds more like a fond curse.

                               

“Harry!” Gemma calls and by the sound of it, she’s quite drunk too. Harry can’t distinguish whether they are girls or women but either way, Gemma is with her gang of friends and Harry doesn’t worry about it too much. Finnegan is downing a bottle of whiskey, he’s sure. Louis comes and stands beside Harry though after a little while and urges Liam to join the group.    

                               

“You want anything though?” Liam asks.

                               

“Get me a Gin aaand…” He looks to Harry in question.

                               

“Do they have Butterbeer?” On second thoughts he adds, “A Butterbeer but if not, a turnip wine would do or any sort of wine really.”

                               

When Liam leaves, Louis turns to him with a frowning expression. “You’re not fun Haz!”

                               

Harry laughs. “Come on.” He pulls Louis by the wrist towards a lone log by the fire. Finnegan waves to him as they pass by.

                              

  -

                               

Louis drinks the gin straight from the bottle and in gulps while Harry leisurely sips at his wine, ears tuned into the various conversations running within the group. He and Louis are the only ones seated together. Liam seems to be getting tipsy by the way he’s acting all clumsy and talking more than Harry’s ever seen him speak. Niall’s on his last nerve and it’s no surprise to Harry. He throws his hands in the air as he dramatically exaggerates a story and laughs loudly that it rumbles within the group.

                               

“Niall is full of life.” Louis randomly comments, his eyes on the boy, while he holds the mouth of the bottle to his lips.

                               

Harry agrees, “He is. How did you two meet?”

                               

“At Hogwarts.” He replies as if it’s the most obvious thing, “He was in Liam’s year, two years lower than me but we three had a love for Quidditch which is what bonded us. What about you?”

                              

“I have a couple of friends here and there.” Harry shrugs. He feels the longing sting in his chest. “Niall and Zayn are sort of the only constant friends in my life.”

                               

“Zayn’s a Muggle then?”

                              

“I think so. I dunno actually. He could be a wizard for all I know considering that Niall is.”

                             

“He’d be here if he was.”

                           

“There are a lot of people here. I wouldn’t be able to find him even if I tried to.”

                               

“You got that shit right.” Harry huffs a laugh and crosses his outstretched legs. “Is Gemma your only sibling?”

                               

“Yeah. You?”

                               

“I’ve got a house full of little pests, meaning six siblings. You’d think I’d gotten a grey hair by now.”                     

                               

“That’s nice.” Harry smiles softly, wary of the fact that Louis inches closer to him. “Being the big brother and all.”

                               

“Oh it’s a chicken coop alright. I’ve had my days. Good experience though.”

                               

“For the future?”

                               

“For the future.” Louis nods then he’s turning to look at Harry straight in the eyes, a sly look upon his face. “Let’s have a toast.”

                               

“To the future?”

                               

He shakes his head. Harry strangles the urge to laugh because this is Louis being tipsy as hell. “To the future where our homes will be run down by a dozen kids and we’ll be pulling grey hairs in solemn weariness.” Louis raises his bottle and Harry knocks his wine glass against it with a _Hear! Hear!_

                              

  -

                               

The night grows colder and darker and Harry is a hundred percent certain that everyone is drunk and out of their minds except him. Some of them are wasted out on the PVC tablecloths spread out over the ground, bottles of beer and whiskey and gin empty and toppled over. It’s a right havoc. Harry decides he’s had enough for the night and could do with some rest including getting Louis to bed because he’s babbling like a brook beside him. His giggles are endearing and Harry could want nothing more than to sit beside him and listen all night long but they have to leave tomorrow and he doesn’t quite fancy being extremely tired.

                               

“Gems,” Harry shakes his sister’s shoulder. She’s spread out on the cloth, dozing. Some of her friends have already left for their own tents, some sleeping alongside her. Harry is sure one or two of them are professors from Hogwarts. “Gems, wake up.” She groggily stirs and lets out a groan. “Gems, you gonna come sleep? It’s really late.” Gemma has always been responsible, sometimes too much like a mother to Harry so it’s no wonder that instead of slapping away Harry’s hand and asking him to go away, she sits up and tries to get her sight back into focus.

                               

“What about Finn?” She asks, looking around for him.

                               

They’re still sitting on the log, Harry bending to speak to Gemma and Louis is clutching onto his side, still muttering nonsense. “He’ll be alright here.” Harry says, pushing her stray locks aside, “I don’t fancy leaving you alone here, that is if you want to come back to the tent.”

                               

“I’m coming. I’m coming.” With a huff and a grunt Gemma gets off the floor. She staggers but Harry has a hand on her waist.

                               

“Hazzzzzzzz.” Louis buzzes beside him, holding onto his wrist now that Harry is standing.

                               

“You coming too Lou?” Harry asks him softly, “I’m going to bed.”

                               

“Can’t you wait?” Louis turns his lips into a pout and Harry softly smiles.

                               

“No Lou. Come on. Let’s get inside and have a good rest.” He pulls Louis onto his feet and lets him lean onto his side. He wraps his other arm around the man’s waist and together he manages to get the two of them to the tent which is not really that far away from the group. It’s sort of like simply crossing the path and they’re in front of the tent.

                               

Gemma goes to bed straight away, flops onto her bunk and so does Louis. Harry makes sure they’re tucked under thick duvets before he heads back outside. Seeing the state Liam and Niall are in he doesn’t think he could let them stay out by themselves. Neither of them are coherent nor seems to know what they’re doing. Especially Niall, he always looks out for the him, and Liam is a new friend so it is a duty he has to carry out.

                               

Despite their whiny protests, Harry gets them one by one into the tent and into bed. Since Louis is sleeping on the bed, he arranges the softest blankets for the Niall and Liam and then goes in search of Finnegan.

                               

It’s still as loud outside but worse. “Everyone’s in bed Finn.” Harry pats his shoulder, “Are you coming too?”

                               

The man shakes his head before turning to listen to his mate who’s relating a story or sorts. Finnegan is dead drunk but Harry lets him be. He settles himself on the sofa with a thin blanket and turns off the lamp. The stars from outside peek inside the tent so it’s briefly lit up that Harry can see vague shadows. He’s had a wonderful day and had the chance to meet new people, make new friends, especially Louis. He can hear the snores coming from the second bedroom and it makes him smile somehow before he shuts his eyes.

 

                                -

                              

Harry wakes up in a condition of feeling like the world is upside down and he had only had two glasses of wine. He absolutely does not deserve this headache. His eyes take a while to adjust to the sunlight pouring through the windows. The tent has windows! Magic is actually really crazy. His mouth tastes like he has eaten slugs for dinner. He scrunches up his nose as he turns around on the sofa, trying to get himself comfortable. He’s not getting out of the sofa; he’s definitely sleeping for another hour or two.

                               

But then there’s a sugar soft voice, greeting him from quite a close distance. “Good morning Harry!”

                               

He wants to groan and throw a tantrum right now but all the same he forces his eyes to fully open and stares up at the man looking down at him from where he’s perched on the arm rest. “Morning!” His voice sounds as wrecked as he feels.

                               

“I made myself a cup of tea if that’s alright.”

                               

“Oh that’s completely fine.” Harry pushes the stuffy blanket aside and throws his feet on the floor. It turns his feet cold as soon as they touch the floor. He cards his fingers through his mess of a hair that has turned knotty over the duration of the night, and tries to scrub the sleep away with the other.

                               

“I made you one too.” Harry turns to look at the boy, sipping his tea. He looks fresh which tells Harry he had already taken a shower and is wearing new clothing. It makes Harry feel ten times dirtier since he, like the others hadn’t bothered to change or anything. But Louis’ looking like sunshine in the rays of the morning, tan, and hair perfectly combed that Harry sort of has the urge to touch him. It’s getting ridiculous.

                               

“Oh thank you.” Harry feels genuinely thankful because his day never begins without a cup of tea first. “That’s quite nice of you.”

                               

“Don’t flatter yourself Hazza.” Louis waves his hand in nonchalance and Harry gives a dry laugh. He really needs to have a shower and brush his teeth. His pretty sure the tang of his morning breath has already reached Louis and the man is only just holding in his comments.

                               

Harry stretches his back when he stands up till it gives a noisy pop and lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re worse than me.” Louis comments idly. Harry just snorts and folds up the blanket.

                               

“How are you not hungover?” Harry asks curiously, “You drunk so much last night.”

                               

“I have this herb thing that allows me to lessen the hangover. I learnt it in potions class.” Louis replies, sliding onto the seat of the sofa, “Wait…Did I do anything terrible last night? Like regrettable terrible things?”

                               

Harry pretends to think, enjoying the expression on Louis’ face that’s turning into something akin to worry. “I don’t think so but whole heartedly I’m sure you said stuff that’s terrible but you were babbling so I didn’t understand a word. Consider yourself lucky.”

                               

“Oh thank God!” Louis is equal parts relieved and on the verge of laughing while he holds a hand over his chest. Harry notices the tattoo around his wrist that symbolizes the suits of a card pack.

                               

“I’m going to have a shower.” Harry says, pointing his thumb in the direction of the bathroom, “Help yourself to breakfast or whatever else.”

                               

“Thanks. You’ll find the bottle of herbs sitting on the sink. It’ll lessen your hangover.” Louis throws a small smile his way which is really the last thing he sees before he goes into the steaming bathroom.

                               

Emerging from the bathroom with his hair wet and clinging to his neck he immediately heads for the kitchen for his cup of tea. It’s really not pleasant when it’s a cold shower but he’s much less hungover now. The tea is warm, thankfully, and he takes sips of it as he cleans his hair with the towel.

                               

Louis enters the kitchen just as Harry is unknotting his hair. They briefly smile at each other before resuming their tasks. “Are the others awake yet?” Harry asks.

                               

“Nope. Sleeping like logs.”

                               

“I’m gonna go check if Finnegan made it back last night.” Harry grabs his cup off the counter and throws the towel over his shoulder. “Thanks for the potion by the way.”

                               

“You’re welcome and I’m going out for a walk.” Louis says stopping Harry in his tracks, “You could join me if you like.” It’s a chance to spend some time with Louis since Harry won’t be able to do that for long once he leaves and he also needs a nice walk in the morning. The outside looks quite welcoming and warm.

                               

So he gives a shake of his head. “Yeah, I’ll join you in a jiffy.”

                               

“I’ll be outside the tent.”

                               

He checks into the first room to find Finnegan sleeping on the narrow bed beside Gemma, one of his legs falling off of the side of the bed. Then he checks on the rest of the boys who are sleeping peacefully enough before finishing his cup of tea and walking out of the tent in search of Louis.

                               

“You’re leaving for London today?” Louis asks minutes into their walk. He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans and lowers his head to watch the ground.

                               

“Yeah. You will be going back home too won’t you?”

                               

“I’m not really sure.” He kicks a stone in his path as he speaks, “I stay over at Liam’s place in Hogsmeade most of the time but my parents live in Wiltshire and that’s where I live too.”

                               

“You don’t have your own place?”

                               

Louis sighs heavily, burdened with a great load it seems. “Nope. My parents aren’t very keen on the idea. They sort of have this high pride about being pure blood and all and…yeah no worries.” He laughs but Harry can sense the underlying emotion he’s trying to hide. He can feel how Louis is trying to keep back what comes out of his mouth in fear. Is it in fear that Harry would see him differently? But he has to try.

                               

“You can tell me you know.” Harry gently squeezes the man’s shoulder, “I won’t judge or anything. I’m a Muggle-born so there’s really no point in it anyway.”

                               

It’s with asserting eyes that Louis looks at him, almost questioning himself if Harry truly means it. He’s afraid and doubtful; Harry can see it quite clearly washing over his face. He knows what it feels like, that’s the thing. It’s not that he’s been bullied for being a Muggle-born since he never did attend Hogwarts but it’s quite similar to how he feels about telling people he doesn’t really know magic at all. “You can trust me.” He continues, trying his best to assure Louis that there’s nothing to be terrified of when it comes to him. “There’s always a first time for everything after all.”

                               

It makes Louis laugh a little and the sound is pleasant, a quick change of demeanour, of trust.

                               

“Alright.” He says, still smiling shyly with his head bent low. “We live at the Tomlinson Manor.” Harry knows that part, he’s read it in the Daily Prophet he found at Gemma’s place but he doesn’t tell him that. “It’s a huge place and rather creepy actually. I sort of hate it there, feel trapped and all that. My parents look down on literally everyone who’s not pure blood and they keep me away from them too, like they won’t let me have friends who aren’t pure blood and it sucks.” Harry can imagine that. “I don’t really care who I make friends with but then friends come and go. I do have my own group of mates that I randomly just call and decide to go play some Quidditch or have a drink with but like you have your besties, Niall, Liam and Stan are mine I guess. Eleanor’s real good company too.”

                               

Harry raises his eyebrows…because that’s new. “You hang out with Calder?”

                               

“I do. She joins us lads with her friends. She can be really talkative and loud like me. Me mates thing we’re non biological twins.” Louis laughs but Harry’s feeling an odd prick in his heart and perhaps the trickle of blood on his palm, tracing the veins. “My parents like her a lot though which sort of dampens the whole ordeal to be honest.”

                               

“I can’t imagine what you go through.” Harry truly does feel sorry for the man. His gran was very accepting of his sexuality and so is Gemma and his friends. He’s not entirely sure if Louis’ gay or anything but from what the papers have fed him, Louis seems have gone to both sides of the scale, there haven’t been a specific tipping point and it’s not Harry’s part to ask either. “I’m so sorry. I feel like such a prat for feeling sympathy for you, I’m sure that’s not what you want…right?”

                              

Louis sort of nods but then he’s looking at Harry and shaking his head with a smile as if asking him to dismiss that fact entirely. “It’s alright but you don’t need to be. I’m used to it and it doesn’t affect me.”

                               

“Oh.”

                               

He hums with an air of retirement.

                               

They walk in equal silence looking straight onwards, Harry with his hands behind his back and Louis with his deep in his trouser pockets. Those who have woken up early have taken down the decorations outside their tents but there’s still the unattended ones flaunting in the light breeze. The once clean land has turned into a garbage disposal overnight where bottles of alcohol, food wrappers, pieces of paper, confetti…are littering the ground. They’ll have to clean up before they leave or the ministry staff will be on their backs. Harry’s thankful that he and his folks hadn’t dropped debris around their site. He had even made sure to pick up after the lads and Gemma last night.

 

“I think I’ve seen you around my place.” Harry pipes up, thinking it’s wise to bring up the topic now.

                               

“What?” Louis looks at him oddly.

                               

Harry scratches at the back of his neck, trying to piece it all together, “You Disapparated I think. I saw you at the Laundromat’s and then in my backyard. I’m not really sure if it was you but I think I’m right.”

                               

At that, Louis’ expression changes as if he’s just realized something. “Oh.” He goes, turning a light red, “I did Disapparate accidently to a few odd places now that I think of it. I remember you at the Laundromat’s.” Harry nods with a smile, finally having confirmed his suspicions.

                               

“Do you work?” Louis speaks up after a beat of silence. He doesn’t look at Harry though.

                               

He feels like the merriment had died down along with Louis’ confession so he tries for a bit of joking. “Nah I’m actually sixty three and living the life of a pensioner.” He’s never really been good at it but there’s nothing to lose. He’s already missing Louis’ cheerful smile. As unexpected as it is, it does bring back a grin to the man’s face, almost automatically lightening the heaviness Harry had felt. “Why don’t you guess?”

                               

“You want me to guess what you do for a living?” He raises an eyebrow at Harry. He wants to whoop in delight.

                               

“Ahah, yeah.”

                               

A grin playing on the buds of his lips, he says. “I’m gonna guess you’re a Herbology geek like your sister. Are you a professor?”

                               

“Nope.” Harry shakes his head from side to side, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling.

                               

Louis falls into deep thought and unconsciously brings up a hand to play with the ripped collar of his t-shirt. “A member of the Ministry?” Harry shakes his head again. “An Unspeakable?” Harry doesn’t even know what that is it but he continues to say no and it starts making Louis frown, “Okay-um a Mediwizard? An Auror?” But his eyes light up after Harry says no again as if he had realized something. He snaps his fingers in excitement. “I know! You’re a journalist.”

                               

Gosh, Harry hates to break his bubble. “No but you’re almost there. It’s quite related actually.”

                               

“Come on Hazza!” Louis whines and pushes him sideways, “There’s a shit ton of things related to journalism. There’s editors and stuff too, I don’t have the slightest idea.”

                               

“Okay, okay.” Harry laughs brightly, pushing back at Louis, “I’m a photographer.”

                               

“Oooooh! You work for the Daily Prophet, that’s bloody brilliant.”

                               

“Actually I don’t work for the wizarding papers. Just Muggle stuff.”

                               

Harry searches his face for any sign of abhorrence even though he’s well aware that Louis is not that sort of person, especially when he’s a friend of Niall’s.

                               

“That’s not bad.” He says as if he’s aware of Harry’s doubt. “Buuuut-they just don’t have moving photographs.”

                               

“Oh yeah.” Harry smirks, “Moving photos are much cooler. The captured moment is still intact but it’s like a video you can watch happening over and over again.” Louis looks at him as if he is describing the works of nature and Harry knows not everyone understands the concept of photography and the love that sprouts within him when it comes to embedding memories that people ever rarely pay attention to. “What do you work as? Just Quidditch?”

                               

“It pays well and I love the sport just like you love photography.” They’re approaching a grassy area of the land. Its greener and much fresher that it makes Harry want to stay put. He’s pretty sure they’re past the fourth field. It’ll be a long walk back to their tent. “I visit Hogwarts every now and then with me mates, sort of help to train the house teams.”

                               

“That’s really amazing.” Harry is impressed. “What does it feel like to fly?”

                               

It’s Louis who has a look of mixed disbelief and astonishment. “Are you saying you’ve never flown on a broom before?”

                               

Harry feels embarrassed and it’s probably showing very well on his face if the heat on his neck is anything to go by. He ducks his head as Louis’ eyes scan him. Fuck! It’s unbelievable how quick Harry feels shame when it comes to this subject. “I’ve never ridden a broom nor touched one to be honest.”

                               

“I find that hard to believe.” Louis blinks still in shock, “You best believe that I’m going to change that and I am a man of my word.”

                               

“Well, I’ll hold you to it.” Harry grins, “Shall we shake on it?” Louis eyes the hand he is holding out with a mischievous look and Harry isn’t too sure about what he’s putting himself through. “I’m just so excited.”

                               

“I won’t ruin it for you.” Louis shakes his hand firmly but his skin feels so soft against Harry’s that he almost instantly craves it once they break apart.

                               

Chafing at a patch of green grass that’s dry and untrodden, he deems it safe enough to sit on. “So have you always been a Seeker back in Hogwarts too?”

                               

“It’s a bit of a long story.” There’s a tint of red colouring the apples of Louis’ cheeks. Harry pats the ground beside him and beckons him with his eyes. “You really want to hear this? It literally bores my mates.”

                               

Louis’ uncertainty fuels Harry’s sureness. He nods resolutely as he watches Louis’ eyes flit about him. “I promise it won’t bore me. You can hit me with your history.”

                               

“I wasn’t always Seeker.” Louis begins, resting back on his hands and stretching out his legs. He tears away from Harry to squint at the plain bright sky. “I was a reserve on the house team for about a year then when Kate Holmes graduated I became Chaser, from Chaser I became a bloody beater.” Harry bobs his head as he tells the story. He’s surely never heard this part of Louis’ life story. “Being Keeper was the worst because I always almost got hit by a Bludger but I’ve always relatively been good at spotting the snitch.” Harry folds his legs Indian style and twists his body to watch Louis as he retells the story. “By sixth year I got a position on the Chuddley Cannons.”

                               

“Really?!!!” Harry’s eyes grow wide at the admission. Chuddley Cannons used to be one of his favourite teams.

                               

“Yeah. I was a Chaser but then the Wimbourne Wasps wanted me when my contract with the Cannons was over and I mean what’s there to lose right?” Harry shakes his head in agreement. “I was a reserve there the entire time which is pretty bland for someone hyperactive as me. Niall and Liam got a position on the team two months after I quit and joined forces with Puddlemere United.”

                               

“Not pissing on Niall’s achievement.” Says Harry with a disapproved frown, “But that’s shit of them to keep you a reserve when you are a really good player and could have won all those lost goals the Wasps made.”

                               

“I agree with you but their ignorance granted me with the best team and the honour of playing for the world cup and I literally pissed myself when they told me.”

                               

“What does it feel like to be printed on the headlines for a good portion of three years?” Harry asks, imaging how Louis must have felt the day he received notification of having to play for the World Cup. He’s never done anything spectacularly marvellous or mindblowingly legendary so he’d never really know the actual feeling. He does think it’s sort of similar to getting your dream job.

                               

“Like finding out Honeydukes is having a specials day and giving out free buckets of candy.”

                               

Free buckets of Candy! Really? This is how the famous Louis Tomlinson feels being famous and spoken of? Harry makes a disgusted face and Louis cackles loudly, a sound that vibrates through Harry’s being. It’s pleasant and warm like Gemma’s hearth back at the cottage. He loves curling by it. “What?” Louis makes a face at him, “I love sweets.”

                               

“Honeydukes? Really Lou?”

                               

“How would you describe it then? I love sweets, you look like a doe Harold but in reality I think you’re a wise old man.”

                               

He weakly hits him on the shoulder. “I would say it’s more of a burning fire, a tickle that starts in your tummy and rumbles all the way and slithers through your veins like a liquid making all your body hairs stick out. It’s like the sweet trickle of water when you’re dying in the desert. This…this unknown feeling of happy outburst that you can’t name, can’t put your finger on, like--like lighting…yes – lighting zipping, crackling. It makes your heart beat like a drum vibration. It’s probably tastes like victory, full of adrenaline combined with joy that you simply don’t even know what to do with it…I know I’m rambling.”

                               

The thing is Louis doesn’t have an exasperated look like Niall does when Harry rambles or the irritated eye roll Gemma does or the fond yet _oh god H_ look his mum makes. It’s more like Louis has finally understood the concept of how rebirth occurs or someone’s just taught him this amazing spell that can magically turn him into something else – okay, alright that spell already exists if he heard Gemma right that is – but really. Louis’ having this awestruck look on his face as if Harry just proclaimed he had been God’s son the entire time. That’s fucking blasphemy as hell.

                               

Oh well. Moving on.

                               

“I think I just witnessed or rather technically an orgasm.” Louis says without blinking. Harry inhales a sharp gasp. He instantly lowers his head feeling embarrassed. “I mean—no offense to your poetic or should I say photographic description.”

                               

Managing to gain his sense back on track and mustering the will to face this human fire, Harry looks up again. He’s half afraid he’ll back out. “I’m not offended. You’re…” He racks for the right word. He swears it was on the tip of his tongue earlier.

                               

“Outspoken?”

                               

“Yes, yes that!” Harry shakes his head enthusiastically and points a finger at Louis with an intensely sure look, “Outspoken exactly!”

                               

“Most say I’m a sassy fucker though.” And he just smirks as if he knows it has an effect on Harry. He really does try to suppress it and does not absolutely want Louis to win so he turns his head and pretends to admire a lone flower on the ground.

                               

“You just love feeding off others’ weaknesses.”He half expects Louis to take an offensive turn to it and really it’s expected. He doesn’t even gasp. He’s hankering to ask the question that’s grappling him by his collar but he knows he has no right to do that even if Louis and he have now achieved a certain level of friendship. So he yanks at the grass by his knees, tearing them a sort of blunt grating sound that makes it sound as if the grass is screaming.

                               

“Jeez Haz!” Louis chuckles, “You tryna murder someone?”

                               

“I’m incapable of it.”

                               

“What with your bad coordination and babyish look I wouldn’t disagree.”

                               

“Heyyyyy.” Harry whines, looking at him sideways. “That’s not very nice.”

                               

“I’m not very nice in general.” With a huff Harry flops backwards so he rests on his back. He then throws the small chunk of grass that he is clutching at Louis so it falls on him like fluttering petals of a flower. “OI!”

                               

Louis dusts them off and tugs out a handful himself. He sprinkles them on Harry’s resting form which enacts nothing out of him. “You are a commoner.” Harry sighs and closes his eyes against the glare of the sun, “You cannot hurt the royal deer no matter how hard you try.” He hears a snicker but if not else it’s completely silent.

                               

Minutes later.

                              

“Harry?”

                               

“Hmmm?”

                               

"Look at me.”

                               

Groaning out a protest seems about the best thing to do because he feels really comfortable in this position—yes with his eyes closed. “Nope.” He doesn’t even want to turn his head…

                               

–but then the feeling of ice coldness spreading all over his body isn’t a good sign.

                               

He realizes he’s wet!

                               

Wet!!

                               

Louis is cackling like a hen. He opens his eyes to see Louis with his nose and eyes scrunched and teeth out with his mouth wide open, letting out little bursts of laughter. He’s also holding his wand in one hand. Oh shit!!                    

                               

“Loueeeeeeeh!!! You absolute little shit!!” Harry shrieks getting off the floor in a fashion as if it had burned his bum and lightly jumps on his feet. It doesn’t get rid of the water and Louis is still cackling, madly. Harry makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and towers over the smaller man. “You’re mad Louis! Mad I say!!”

                               

“You’re not mad at me.” His tone confident. Harry wants to contradict him just to see him look frustrated. Frankly speaking, Harry is not frustrated neither irritated nor anything close to negative at all. He’s just endearingly lost at what to do with Louis because he makes his stomach turn and the palms of his hands sweat and his skin to want to touch his, just barely. Louis feels addictive and it’s only been a short few hours that they’ve known each other. Yet it’s been a very productive few hours. This is how all good friendships begin; he can feel it in his bones except that the rest of his friendships had never felt like this.

                               

“You better have a spell to make me dry.” Harry huffs and then realizes how many puns they’ve made this morning. It’s getting absolutely absurd.

                               

“Do it yourself.” One second he has a frown but then the next he’s got a very intimidating look.

                               

Oh! “I left my wand…” It needs to be a smooth lie. “Back at the tent.”

                               

“Who leaves their wand behind?” Louis is…well utterly shocked? “It’s supposed to be with you at all times.”

                               

“Just do it Lou!”

                               

“Okay. Alright.” Louis smirks. He knocks his foot against Harry’s. Thinking about it, Harry’s suede boots are drenched too. “But you need to say the magic word.”

                               

“What is it? Abracadabra?”

                               

“Nope.”

                               

“Please?”

                               

“Since you asked so nicely,” He points his sleek black wand at Harry, “ _Exaresco!”_ And just like that Harry is completely dry. He’s looking down at himself in shock, he wants to reveal in this magical thing up close when it hits him that Louis is looking at him weirdly.

                               

“Perfect!” Harry breezes and twirls very ungraciously. “Now, let’s get going. Come on.” He pulls a grumpy Louis off the ground, “The others are probably awake and ready to leave already.”

                               

“How are you leaving?” He tucks his wand into his back pocket and pulls his t-shirt over it. Harry is really observant that sometimes he wishes it wasn’t a trait of his.

                               

“By Portkey.” The thought of going back to the cottage feels relieving just like when Louis made him all dry. Oh God! “How about you? Where will you be heading?”

                               

“I’m flying.” The shorter man makes a sweeping motion with his hand to represent his broom, “Heading back to Tomlinson Manor as usual.” That title has made Louis frown and look like a tramped snail every time it’s mentioned. He must really have a bad time living there.

                               

“You could visit Niall and me in London.” He tries to offer that invitation as a sort of consolation to Louis. “You can even finally meet Zayn.”

                               

His eyes are swimming in a pool of blue, oceanic blue that even paint can’t create. “That is very lovely of you Haz. I might take you up on it.”                 

                               

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget your promise to take me flying.”

                               

"Oh I won’t.” He makes a convincing appalled face at him, “As if I would Harold. What did I say? I’m a man—“

                               

“-of his word. I know.” Harry finishes his sentence with a smile. “I shall remember.”

 

                                -

 

                               

Stepping inside the tent feels like entering civilization – that’s probably because he’s been too absorbed in his own little bubble where a cute man exists – but it’s filled with small chatter and everyone bustling about casually and there’s the smell of breakfast cooking. Harry never belonged to a home where it was full of people and a sense of homeliness coated every inch of air particle. This must be what Louis’ home feels like.

                               

The boys greet the two of them with beaming smiles and offers of coffee and tea. Feeling the emptiness in their stomachs and knowing breakfast will be late, they take the offered drinks.

                               

“Where have you two been?” Gemma asks when he pops into the kitchen to steal an apple sitting in a bowl.

                               

“Out.” Harry digs into the fruit and takes a bite making a crunching sound, “We went for a walk.”

                               

“You woke up that early when you drank last night?” It’s disbelief. It’s her knowing that he would never wake up at the crack of dawn just for a walk with a hangover. In a way it’s true but he never usually misses his morning jogs.

                               

“I wasn’t drunk last night as a matter of fact.” He idles by the kitchen entrance on the perimeter of finding Louis. “It was I—“ He points to himself with the apple clad hand, “who made sure you guys weren’t gonna die out there with all that liqueur in your stomachs. And to put it fairly, Louis has a potion to lessen headaches.”

                               

Gemma comes forward and mushes his cheeks together, making a cooing face at him. “Awwww you’re so considerate baby brother!” Harry tries to make a face at her but his cheeks are being squashed and it’s difficult. Gemma can be a pain in the arse sometimes but he’s eyeing the pot that’s stirring itself with disdain and wonder at the same time. “Also please ask those useless men to help me make their food. I’m not their head chef.” Harry nods when Gemma finally releases his face. “Now go find your little man.” That was what he was going to do anyway.

                               

“He’s not little.” Harry shouts halfway through leaving but all he can hear is Gemma laughing. He intentionally bumps into Niall on the way to the bedroom.”Gem wants you guys to stop lazing and help her out.” And…well there are the Christmas lights going off in Niall’s eyes. Food will get him going for anything.

                               

Crossed legged on the bed with his back towards Harry, Louis is hunching over something. His hands are moving in slow motions, and soft whispers fill Harry’s ears. The closer he gets to him, the clearer it becomes of what he is doing. Harry moves deftly on his feet, trying not to catch Louis’ attention whilst he tries to balance his mug of tea too. He towers over Louis, trying to peek over his head. He could strain his leg muscles by how much he’s trying to stretch just to look.

                               

Louis has his wand pointing at a ceramic teacup in his hand and mutters a spell. Harry watches the teacup sprout two handles and now it has three handles. He continues to watch Louis’ object transformation in fascination; his apple is going to be brown all over by the end of it. He watches him enlarge the teacup, making it grow bigger and bigger until it is twice the size of Louis’ hand.

                               

“ _Caeruleus_ ” He mutters with a swirl and the tea cup turns a shade of bright blue. Harry nearly gasps because the colour looks so much like Louis’ eyes had that morning.

                               

With his fascination blooming like an eager flower, he watches the tea cup turn into a wicker basket as Louis whispers a soft “ _Calathus_ ” and taps it.

                               

“You could do better not breathing down my neck you know.” It startles Harry that he yelps and jumps backwards. Luckily he drops neither of his food. Louis doesn’t even turn around to look at him. “Come sit.” He says instead, head still bowed.

                               

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” Harry says with a sigh but he makes Louis scoot over so he can sit beside him on the bed with his own legs crossed.

                               

“Yeah…well.” Louis shrugs and locks eyes with Harry, making them twinkle, “I can sense human presence.”

                               

“How?”

                               

“Magic you silly.”

                               

“Oh.”

                               

“You’re good at this.” Harry compliments as his eyes track the movement of the basket which twists and flattens out, growing small until it is a silver coin. He holds up his apple for Louis. “A bite?”

                               

He nods and takes a bite of the juicy fruit, a sweet crunching sound follows. “It’s just transfiguration Haz.” He says but there’s no mocking tone to it either. It’s like it’s something usual for him. “Everyone can do it. I can only do the simple stuff.”

                               

“You do it because you’re nervous.” It’s not a question, a statement that he is completely aware that Louis is letting out his nerves and trying to focus on something else.

                               

The lack of response is followed by Louis mumbling “ _Geminio_ ”. The coin stretches, splitting into two. He’s duplicated the coin. Harry makes an impressed face for no one but himself. He has never seen Gemma do transfiguration before. Louis merges the two coins together and with the flick of his wand he transfigures the coin into a small bird, yellow and grey feathered. It twitters and hops on his palm. His lips flicker into a smile. Harry puts the apple core into his mug and places the ceramic on the floor in quick moves so as to not waste a moment of Louis’ genuinely warm smile. Indeed it does make butterflies flutter in his belly now instead of those quick little turns he had felt.

                               

Louis shifts and moves to sit in front of Harry so their knees are touching. His wand is discarded somewhere in the blankets because of him moving about so much but then he extends his cupped hands with the little bird towards Harry. Harry raises his eyebrows at him and he nods, a soft smile playing on his lips.

                               

Very carefully as if handling a new born baby or a very old antique artefact, Harry takes the bird into his own cupped palms and beams gleefully at the pretty creature. “Hello.” He whispers, bringing his head down to look at the creature and stroking its little head with the pad of his thumb, “You look cute. You’re a beauty.” Louis is watching him, he knows, he can feel the prickling of his skin but it makes it no less easy for him when he hears an adorable sound escaping Louis’ lips.

                               

“Hold out your hand.” He instructs. Harry does as he is told and Louis points his now found wand at the bird and says, “ _Evanesco_ ”. Harry watches the bird disappear into thin air with a whoosh. His empty hands shocks him for a brief moment before he regains his senses to find Louis watching him, wand now put away into the pocket of his jeans.

                               

His eyes flicker down to where Louis is tearing at the threads at the hem of his jeans. He wants to ask what’s wrong but the thing is he isn’t so sure whether he should prompt a supposed confession first or whether Louis is simply collecting his wits to tell whatever is on his mind by himself. It’s a tough decision alright.

                               

Harry doesn’t have to wait long nor does he have to battle between the choices running through his mind for Louis seems on the very verge of saying something. He doesn’t look at Harry though, darts his eyes away to look at the wooden cabinet next to the bed. “Would you like to meet some time?” He asks and well…Harry’s not really shocked. Okay, he is a teeny bit surprised is all because he had never expected to ever see Louis again until the next World Cup but he guesses the world works in very mysterious ways as this very moment. “I mean…you don’t have to if you don’t want to, no pressure or anything, I was only just suggesting—“

                               

“I would love to.” Harry cuts him off, internally smiling at the man fumbling out reasons. Louis whips his head so fast that Harry thinks he could get whiplash from it, honestly. “Where do you want to meet?”

                               

It’s as if Harry’s acceptance of the invitation has rendered Louis the inability to speak. He fish mouths for a good few seconds before he huffs out a timid laugh and says, “The Three Broomsticks? Would that be alright for you? Or we could totally go somewhere else, a place of your choice even.”

                               

“I don’t really mind.” Harry shrugs. They both hear Niall yelling at them to come for breakfast or there won’t be any food left. Harry knows better than to ignore the threat, he’s already experienced it a handful of times. “The Three Broomsticks sound good to me.”

                               

“Okay, alright then.” Louis gets off the bed. Harry follows him, picking up the mug from the floor. “We’ll meet tomorrow at around quarter past six.”

                               

“It’s a date.” Harry realizes that he’d just flirted with the man he’d only recently become friends with. It’s quite embarrassing when Harry is the one fumbling for words to explain the possible misinterpretations of it. “We’re obviously just having a drink aren’t we? Like something to eat perhaps, not like a real date-date but like a lunch date between friends. I uh don’t…I mean—“

                               

“Haz, breakfast is waiting for us.” Louis laughs and throws an arm over his shoulder, pulling him along into the kitchen where the rest of the group are sitting around a wooden table. It’s a kitchen nook, cosy but not unlike the one back at Gemma’s. There’s sausages, and toast, and eggs and bacon, a mouth watering breakfast for a full belly and hungry adolescents.

 

                                -

                               

They don’t sob or hang onto each other when they leave as much as it’s an expected factor at every family-group departure. Finnegan is the first to leave, by Disapparating before their eyes. He had received a Patronus half way through breakfast from Gringotts asking for his assistance. It’s not really a holiday for anyone working important jobs but Finn had missed the former World Cups and he had begged for a day off just for this year’s one and especially in consideration of Gemma.

                               

Harry had offered to help Louis pack his bag but the man had simply waved his wand and stuffed his clothes into the rucksack. He believes the rest of them had done the same thing and apparently Harry’s the only one not using magic at all. After helping to take down the tent, Liam, Louis and Niall leave on their brooms, their bags levitating beside them as they zoom into the air. Harry and Gemma are the last to leave.

                               

Shouldering their bags, Gemma having put a feather light charm on her bag, they trek towards the location of the Portkeys. There are a lesser number of people to accompany them this time around so they aren’t squished all together when holding onto the tablecloth.

                               

They land at the same place as their starting point and then begin the walk to Gemma’s cottage. Gemma’s been silent the entire journey and Harry’s simply been thinking, letting the events of the day mull like boiling water in his mind. It gave him time to reflect and to speak to his sister. After all they had never kept secrets between them. It’s as if Gemma knows that he’s thinking of something, that he’s going to speak to her one way or another which simply explains why she doesn’t look knocked for six by what Harry says.

                               

“Louis asked me to meet him at the Three Broomsticks.” Harry opens up, glancing sideways at his sister who barely shifts. “I told him I would.”

                               

“That’s not all you guys were talking about in your morning walk.”

                               

“What do you think we did? Snogged?” He laughs when Gemma gives him a glare with nothing but silent fond behind it. “We only spoke about Quidditch and he promised to take me flying, and he mentioned stuff about his family and school stuff. He lives with his parents, did you know?” 

                               

“Nope. Why though? Or am I not supposed to know?”

                               

“I…”

                               

“It’s alright Haz, there are things which are not your place to tell me.”

                               

“Yeah. Thanks for understanding that part.” He nudges her lightly on the side.                

                               

“Heyyy!! What’s that supposed to me?” She pouts and ribs him causing him to clutch at his sides and pretend to groan.

                               

“You can be annoying.”                               

                               

“So are you. You look cute but you’re evil on the inside brother.” There’s a playfully ruthless tone to it and he can imagine all the memories running through her mind of him and her during their shared childhood. “Remember when you nearly axed me when you were helping Gran chop wood.” He goes to nod but she doesn’t spare him the chance before she rambles on, “And…and that time when you spilt milk all over my favourite storybook during breakfast.”

                               

“That was an accident. My hand knocked against the glass of milk.” Harry argues his case, “You weren’t supposed to have things on the breakfast table anyway. It was a lesson for you to learn by the unimaginable.”

                               

“Shut up.” But she takes his arm in hers, cuddling it to her side, sort of making it difficult for the both of them to walk.

         

They’re just stepping onto the threshold when he says it. “Lou’s not happy living at the manor.” Gemma only squeezes his bicep and it’s enough for him as an answer.

         

Dusty slinks over to them when she hears the sound of their boots, and bags being placed on the table. Harry indulges her by giving her a good rub and then filling her bowl with food. “Are you staying?” Gemma asks, taking off her coat and throwing it over the back of a chair. Harry affirms that he will be because why not? There’s nothing to do back at his flat and Zayn would probably be at Gillen’s and Niall will be at Liam’s with Louis probably, so it sounds as refreshing as it feels to spend the day at Gemma’s. It’s not like he gets to spend every day in the presence of magic and warm fires and hearty meals.

         

Unlike the other towns – as Harry has heard – Hogsmeade is filled with magic, no one really tries to hide it because there’s no Muggles at all in the village. He has always wished he could live here, perhaps next to Gemma’s cottage but that wouldn’t really be apt considering he doesn’t know shit about magic nor does he own a wand. He’s not complaining, he wouldn’t although he could.

 

          -

         

Nearing dusk, Harry watches the neighbours set out of the house from where he’s seated by the window seat. Gemma’s upstairs doing some paper marking and there’s a fresh batch of biscuits baking in the oven that he and Gems had made together. After notifying a barely cognisant Gemma of where he is heading to, Harry slips out of the house with the knit jumper and a small tin of really hot biscuits.    

         

Garter greets Harry with the utmost welcome of joy. The house elf’s eyes grow huge, bigger than their normal sized circles and there’s so much happiness radiating from the small creature that Harry feels thankful for having planned to visit the elf. Garter takes the biscuits with a polite thank you and gleefully tries on the grey knit jumper. It’s not that Garter’s owners are heartless, they give him meals and lets him have a bath and all that but Harry had really felt disgust that they never bother with caring much about Garter. The elf’s given clothes had eventually started to wear and its hanging in pieces, patched up by the trivial sewing that Garter can only manage.

         

“Does it look good on me Harry sir?” He asks as he gives a little ungainly twirl with his arms out at his sides.

         

“You do.” Harry smiles from where he’s seated on a stool in the kitchen. Garter sleeps in the hallway in front of the fire at night but the rest of the time he’s in the kitchen cooking or looking after the house chores. Harry swears on his life that he will treat his elf with as equally to a human if he ever does get a house elf. It’s not that he would but the future is unpredictable.

         

The thing about elves are that if you give them a sock or some article of clothing, they’re not going to go away, they seek work, they seek to be under control because that’s all they are really. Gemma had explained it to him when she found him freaking out about the neighbours having an elf they barely cared about. It’s the twenty first century and elves don’t believe they have much more than work since apparently there is no place for them in society. Harry thinks its bullshit! If there’s Centaurs in a forest out there, living their own lives then so can elves. One day these creatures are going to realize their self worth and start living in society consequently.

 

          -

        

Harry is hurriedly putting on a pair of jeans and a new shirt with flowers all over it when Zayn enters the flat bearing dinner. “Oh.” Harry pauses pulling on the shirt when he sees Zayn who’s giving him the quirked eyebrow look at him now.

               

“Where you headed Haz?” The man questions, shutting the door and toeing off his shoes. “After dusk too.”

 

“I…um—“ Oh fuck!! He wasn’t really expecting Zayn to show up this early from work. “Was gonna see a friend.”

         

“Like a date?” Zayn really has no filter but Harry’s feeling oddly guilty because the man had brought them both dinner and now Harry won’t be able to stay for it.

         

“Not—not a date Zee. Just meeting someone.”

         

“Is it a boy? A girl?”

         

“Does it matter?”

         

“It does. One defines a date, the other a meet up with a friend.” Finally having pulled on his shirt and buttoning it, he watches Zayn set the food on the table and plop on the sofa with a sigh of relief. “So tell me, is it a boy or a girl?”

         

“A boy.” Harry gives in. There’s no slipping out of Zayn’s persuasive interrogations.

         

Zayn moves his head up and down with his mouth formed in an oval shape. “Ahhh a date. I see. Have fun then.”

         

“What about dinner?” Harry motions to the food on the table that’s sending off a steam of mouth watering smell.

         

“I’ll call Gillen over.” He replies, “Haven’t seen her for the entire day.”

         

“You could ask Niall over too.” Harry offers although he’s really not certain where the blonde might be, in the wizarding world or in his flat.

         

“Yeah him too.” Zayn obliges with a wave of his hand, “Now you go have fun and don’t bring him home.”

         

“What?!” Harry squawks.

         

“I need sleep Haz.” He replies as if it should be an obvious thought for Harry, “I’ve work and all. Don’t need to hear you shagging in the next room.”

         

“It’s not like that.”

         

“Eventually.”But then Zayn lets out a groan and ushers Harry out of the flat with a swift kiss onto his cheek.

         

         

He takes the portkey to Gemma’s house and from there she takes him to the Three Broomsticks like she had promised. Seeing Louis again is a jumbled mess of intangible thoughts and lightening speed feelings zipping through his veins. Louis is having a Butterbeer which is half empty considering that he had arrived much earlier than Harry to the place and their meet up literally consists of Louis introducing Harry and his friends to each other and long drawn out odd conversations that make no sense.

         

Louis talks about the first time he used Floo poweder and had ended up in the wrong alley. “I wanted to go to the Shrieking Shack because I’ve heard all these stories about it being spooky and all that even after we knew it was Remus Lupin’s place of transformation. People still don’t approach the place and I was a mischievous kid during school.” Harry listens with interest. He had heard all about Harry Potter and the Battle of Hogwarts from both his Nan and Gemma. There are even movies and books produced by a famous Muggle-born wizard. Gems had the best pieces of news though because she attended Hogwarts and she had made friends with the ghosts. He hopes he gets to meet a ghost one day.

         

“Anyway our manor has a fireplace and dad uses it to get to the ministry most of the time.” He takes a drink from the mug, smacks his lips and continues, “So when my sisters were out with me mum, shopping, and dad was at the ministry, I decided to take the trip to the shack.” Louis starts laughing as he draws closer to the best part. “I ended up at the Knot and Tie Tracks instead because I pronounced the damn thing wrong!” Harry can’t help laughing along with him. Louis’ entire face scrunches up into one of pure joy when he laughs; it grips at Harry’s heart like a lock. “Sue my missing front teeth for that.”

         

“What happened afterwards?” Harry asks, drawing his Butterbeer close and circling the mug on the table. They’re seated together in a corner away from Louis’ friends. It’s nice spending time with Louis solely instead of having a group of mates howling with laughter and banging their mugs on the table. He cherishes each moment with Louis; it’s much more memorable and pleasant.

         

“Me mum found me at Knot and Tie Tracks when she came to buy shoes for my sisters. I got grounded for a week and a long arse lecture from dad.” He shrugs and downs the remaining Butterbeer. “I’ll be back.”

         

Harry studies his surroundings while Louis is at the bar counter ordering a refill. He’s only ever been to the Three Broomsticks, once, when Finnegan had taken him out for a drink and a chat. He’s already made up his mind to have dinner too before he sets off for home. He tells so to Louis and the blue eyed man agrees with a shake of his head and a soft smile.

         

As he’s digging into his meal, he can’t help the smile that grows. He’s reminded of a cute little boy getting up to all sorts of notorious tricks, ending up in trouble. “You have dimples.” Louis says which sounds more like a squeal really. He pokes at Harry’s cheek with a finger.

         

“I do.” Harry grins surely deepening the craters on his cheeks. “And you only noticed it now?”

         

“Well...” Louis shrugs, “You’re smiling as if you’ve received the best news in a year.” Harry giggles, shying away from Louis’ piercing eyes. Louis taps his right cheek and resumes eating.

         

“So Li, Nialler and I are training three days from now…Quidditch training.” Louis begins after a few minutes of silence pass between them. Harry dips the cut piece of fish into the garlic sauce and takes a bite urging Louis with his eyes to carry on. “I was thinking you could join us after the session. Would you like to come? If you’re not busy or anything that is.”

         

“Yeah I will.” Harry confirms. “It sounds good. Is there anything I need to bring?”

         

“Just yourself curly.”

         

“Alright.” Harry bows his head when he notices Louis watching him. “How often do you stay at Liam’s?”

         

“Quite a lot, actually.” But when Harry pauses for a brief moment, he hurries to continue, “It’s not weird or anything because Liam’s girlfriend lives with him and Niall’s over almost all the time.”

         

“When he’s not at mine.” Harry huffs, “I still find it hard to believe that Niall’s a wizard.”

         

“Takes a while to get used to it Haz.”

         

“Was it the same for you?” Harry doesn’t doubt that it was because as far as he knows, Louis’ dad works at the ministry which says a lot because non magical people don’t work in the wizarding world and Louis’ family has a manor but there’s always that first shocking moment when you receive your acceptance letter. “When you received your acceptance letter I mean.”

         

“Sort of I guess? I already knew a lot of stuff and knew perfectly well I was attending Hogwarts since my entire bloodline is magical but seeing the real thing was the ultimatum I think. As a kid literally everything fascinates you so I guess yeah but I caught up pretty quick.”

         

“How about—“ Harry’s been waiting for that you see, he knew it’d be coming and just like that before Louis can get the whole question out, Harry cuts him off.

         

“Do you want to go for a walk? Walk while we talk I mean?” Louis’ finished with his meal and Harry only has to finish the few chips sitting on the saucer. To be honest, that was the only logical thing that ran through his mind.

         

“Yeah alright.” And in his haste, Harry stuffs down the chips and gulps the remaining glass of water.

         

Thank the lucky stars for Harry’s quick thinking skills because Louis doesn’t repeat the question he had meant to ask earlier. Harry gets to see the different parts of Hogsmeade, something he had never been able to do before since both Gemma and Finn are busy one way or another. He also has to mentally create a map of wherever they’re walking in case he gets lost when returning home.

         

“What does your mum work as?” He asks since the question has been spinning in his mind ever since he learnt that Louis’ dad works for the Ministry.

         

“She’s a Mediwizard.” Louis replies, “It’s kinda cool because when I visit her, there’s all these kids I meet and I help with brewing small potions and stuff.”

         

“Does she work at St.Mungo’s or--?”

         

“Yeah, at St.Mungo’s but not often.”

         

Harry hums in understanding. She has six kids to take care of after all unless they have nannies or elves. Oh, who’s he kidding, Louis’ home undoubtedly has elves. He hopes they treat them well though.

         

“It’s still old school here.” Louis says, pointing a finger at the Wizarding Wireless Network quarters they pass. “I mean the wizarding world as a whole. Internet would be a blast over here.” Harry agrees. “The radio broadcasting could really use some modern tunes. What sort of music do you like Haz?”

         

His music taste is very different to that of literally everyone around him. Niall and Zayn despise his playlist which he blasts in the mornings when making breakfast. Louis’ bound to be one of those popular hit music lovers. “I’m sort of old school.” Harry shrugs, “Rolling Stones and James Morrison and all that. What about you?”

         

“I believe you are aware of what I prefer.” Louis chuckles. “But anyhow, I love these catchy popular tunes, like the ones that go on BBC radio 1.”

         

“You listen to that?” Harry asks in utter surprise.

         

“I do. You do too don’t you? Don’t tell me you like that nasty Grimshaw guy.”

         

Harry shrugs, a faint smile flickering, “He’s not bad.”

         

“Ahhh but you only say so, like a myth.”

         

They pass the Hog’s head that still looks as unappealing from the outside as Gemma had described, and Honeydukes and the owl post office. The cold air whips around him, and Harry gets closer to Louis. He tucks his hands into his jean pockets wishing he had his mittens. The music shop is on their way and Harry wants to stop by. He’s never really seen what sort of music these people listen to. He tugs at Louis’ arm and motions with his head towards Dominic Maestro’s.

         

“Really Haz?” Harry can tell he wants to laugh by the way he keeps his lips tightened. “Okay, alright let’s go. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

         

“It’s not too bad.” He says as they step foot into the shabby shop, a bell tinkling from above.

         

Louis takes him to Gladrags Wizardwear and gets him a pair of green socks with white anchors dotted on them. Apparently the socks start screaming when they start getting smelly and needs a wash. Harry thinks it’s funny and insists on Louis buying a pair of his choice too. Harry gets him a blue pair with sparkles because he has blue eyes. He doesn’t think of the consequences of buying screaming socks on the spot and well—he’s happy so there’s no space for worry.

         

Feeling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger of a dress robe he comes across, Louis says, “I came here to get my dress robes for the Yule Ball.” Ah, the Yule Ball, what a time it had been. Gemma had looked exquisite that day and Harry and Oliver had been a dashing couple. It feels almost eerily comforting to know that Louis was attending the ball too.

         

“You didn’t go to Madam Malkin’s?” Harry asks because Gemma had bought hers from Madam Malkin’s, everyone did apparently and it’s known as one of the best robes store in Diagon Alley.

         

“Nah.” Louis shakes his head and turns around to follow Harry to pay for their purchases, “My date preferred not having to travel far and it wasn’t like the students were allowed to go outside of Hogsmeade unless their parents came to accompany them on the shopping spree.”

         

“What about your parents though? Didn’t they come?”

         

Louis shrugs, not a flicker of emotion present, “They were too busy for something silly as a Yule Ball.”

         

“Who was your date?” He questions both from curiosity and for a want of changing the subject as Louis places a couple of sickles on the counter.

         

“There was this guy from my year, a Ravenclaw. He was a potions geek. I wasn’t really intending on going to the ball. It was disinterest and the lack of a partner too but yeah—he asked me to the ball and I agreed, partly because they claimed to have spiked the drinks.”

         

“That’s reckless.” Harry laughs, “But you had a good time.”

         

“I did.” Louis smiles, “Whom did you go with? It’s a bit funny you know, I don’t remember seeing you at all, not even in any of the classes.”

         

“I’m younger than you by three years you know.” He replies, slipping out from giving a reply, “I went with my boyfriend, Oliver.”

         

Louis’ composure seems to have changed in a matter of seconds. Harry has no idea whether it’s what he just said or something is bothering Louis. “Are you still together?”

         

“Um… no.” Harry grits his teeth. It’s not as painful anymore as it felt for months after Oliver had plainly stated that they needed to break up. He had believed the rumour that Harry had kissed someone else, Gemma had said Oliver was an arsehat for believing in a rumour and having no trust in Harry. _‘You don’t need anyone who doesn’t trust and believe in you anyway.’_ She had said. It made sense when he recovered. But it still irks him to be reminded. “We broke up.”

         

That’s all the confirmation Louis needs apparently for him to clap his hands and suggest they have ice cream from Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour afterwards, even if the weather is a bit chilly. But the luring banana ice cream topped with chocolate is not something Harry can voluntarily resist.

                               

They leave when Hogsmeade starts getting darker since Louis had promised to be home before ten to help his mum, and Harry didn’t want Zayn getting worried. Louis drops him off at Gemma’s - “It’s not safe out late.” He had said – with a promise that they’ll have a good time at the Quidditch pitch and afterwards a drink at Liam’s.

                               

Harry goes home that night to find a tired Zayn sleeping uncomfortably on the couch with the television running an episode of iZombie. From the looks of it, Gillen has already left and Niall has made no appearance whatsoever, there’s no food crumbs anywhere in sight. He carries Zayn to bed, tucking him in before retreating to his own room. He wears the socks Louis got him that night, the softness of it rubbing on his skin like cotton.

         

-

         

It’s fucking five thirty on a Saturday morning when Niall’s shaking him awake, wearing a robe, and a broomstick thrown over his shoulder.

         

“What the fuck!” Harry groans, turning around to switch on the lamp. “What are you doing here so early?”

         

“Training.” Niall says giving a pointed look at his broom. He plops himself down on the bed and crawls to lie beside Harry, “Thought you might want company.”

         

“This early?” And then he feels confusion cloud in. “Company? What are you on about?”

         

“Louis told me about the Quidditch date you two have.” Niall grins. “Well, you wouldn’t know how to get to the pitch.”

         

“Okay, alright.” Harry wants to slap the grin right off his face but he really has no energy to defend what Niall’s saying.

         

Its fifteen minutes later when Harry finally gets out of bed, has a hot shower and gets dressed. He butters a piece of toast to fill his empty stomach with, Niall having his own slice.

         

“Quidditch at six in the morning.” Harry rolls his eyes, “You sure you guys are sane?”

         

“You’ve never played the game before Haz, don’t be so cranky.”

         

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry dusts his hands free of crumbs and follows Niall towards the front door.

         

Niall raises his eyebrows as if to say he thinks Harry’s insane “Put on a jacket or something. It’s cold in the mornings. You’ll freeze to death.” He gives Harry a pointed look.

         

“You can bury me in a river then.” Harry grunts as he bends to tuck his heel into the boot. He leaves a note for Zayn who’s sleeping quite peacefully, wraps a scarf around his neck, and they’re off.

         

Niall has to create a Portkey then and there with a piece of discarded metal. “ _Portus_ ” He whispers, pointing at the object while Harry keeps a look out for anyone approaching the territory. It’s not a long lasting Portkey like Gemma’s. It’s just charmed to take them to the pitch and bring them back home. Niall smirks when he finds out that Gemma’s Portkey for Harry is an illegal one.

         

“Bloody hell.” Harry whispers when they land at the IlkleyMoor Quidditch Stadium. The players are already present and milling about, evidently waiting for someone, the coach perhaps.They’re all decked in robes and scarves.

         

“I’ll see you after the match H.” Niall slaps him on the back before he runs towards the group. It’s chilly as Niall had mentioned and a bit foggy too. London’s much foggier in the mornings when he goes for his run. He pulls his coat tighter around himself, thankful that he has his mittens on this time and a beanie.

         

Even though the seats are a tad bit damp, he settles himself on the bleachers as the players warm up and starts a fresh game. Louis notices him twenty minutes into the game when he flies low and close to the bleachers. His face wholly turns into one of pure delight and he energetically waves at Harry who returns the wave and hollers a ‘Good Luck Lou!’

         

It feels like a privilege to be able to watch the most famous Quidditch players, the ones who won the World Cup, practice on a misty morning, especially up close too. There are at least twenty players, divided into two teams. Louis’ opposing team are all wearing black robes and Louis’ team are wearing brown robes, to help distinguish the teams. Both teams are equally good but having Liam as a Keeper and Niall as a Chaser is one hell of an advantage, then there’s also Eleanor who’s on the opposing team. Harry wishes he had brought his Omniculars with him so he could zoom in and maybe even try to find the golden snitch.

         

The game is mainly the dark haired coach flying around and giving the players instructions, directing them on formations and such. He seems really good at coaching the players thus the talented young people bringing glory to their country.

         

After the game, Harry waits for the boys. Niall and Liam are sweating more than Louis is and the three of them are chugging down a bottle of cold water.

         

“Good game boys.” Harry gives them a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

         

“Thanks Haz!” Niall bumps his fist against Harry’s. “You ready?”

         

"As ready as I’ll ever be.” He straightens himself and cocks his head upwards trying to come as an overly arrogant manner. “How are you Liam?”

         

The muscled man nods and smiles at Harry while he wipes his face with a white towel. “Good, good. How are you?”

         

“I’m well. You’re a pretty mean Keeper by the way.” Liam lets out a hearty laugh, like it’s the only valuable compliment he has received. Niall grins from where he’s seated.

         

“Thank you.” Harry turns his gaze towards Louis who’s been standing there watching him the whole time. He pulls the one of his trouser legs to reveal the pair of socks he’s wearing. Louis grins at him with twinkle.

         

He throws his towel at Niall who sputters, giving him a dirty look. “You ready to go curly?”

         

“Yeah.” Harry nods eagerly, “How are we supposed to do this?” He follows Louis down the steps and onto the grounds. The dew wets the soles and sides of his brown boots.

         

“We can get an extra broom or you can ride with me first before you try on your own.”They head towards the locker room or at least that’s what Harry thinks it is because it’s quite similar to the ones that were in his High school. “What do you prefer?”

         

Biting his lip and feel the heat rise up his neck, he replies. “I think I’d ride with you first. I might fall and break my neck or something if I tried on my own.” He’s not trying to flirt, really or imply anything else. He’s being honest and on the other hand his nerves are jiggling like a rattle.

         

“Okay then.” Louis takes him into the room and yes, it’s the team’s locker room. There’s a stack of brooms stood up in a corner, all sorts of brooms. Harry notices a _Nimbus 2000_ , a really old broom, the time when Harry Potter was alive. Louis motions to the brooms with a sweeping hand motion and Harry chooses the _OrangeFlame_. “It’s neither fierce nor too slow.” Louis explains as they make their way out of the room, lugging their brooms, “Quite suitable for you actually.”

         

When they get to the field, Harry leaves his broom to lean against the railing of the bleacher and joins Louis by his side where he has already mounted his broom. His broom is a fierce looking reddish maroon colour called _Arrowbolt_ which is rather fast, makes it easier for seekers to catch a snitch. It’s the latest on demand broom according to the Daily Prophet.

         

Harry follows Louis’ lead even though he can’t imagine for the life of him how they’re going to ride one broom together. He feels a bit apprehensive about sitting on the broom although he is well aware that there is an invisible seat upon it. He wraps his arms tightly around Louis’ waist as he sits behind him. His heart is jack rabbiting against his ribcage and they aren’t even off the ground yet. “Don’t worry.” Louis assures him, “I won’t let you die.”

         

“I have a hard time believing that.” He is on the verge of hiding his face in the crook of Louis’ neck but has to restrain himself. “If you do let me di—“ He is cut off as Louis kicks off the ground and their in midair! Flying!

         

Actually, fucking flying!

         

“Oh my gosh!” Harry squeaks. He balls Louis’ jumper in his fists and grits his teeth as the wind whips across his face like a lash and blows his hair. “We’re g—gonna die Lou, oh god—we’re going…we’re absolutely dying today…” He’s freaking out. He wants to wrap his legs around Louis and hide his face under his jumper like a frightened rabbit, just literally wants to cling onto him and never let go.

         

“Haz.” He can feel the rumble of Louis’ chuckle against his chest, “It’s alright. Just let go.”

         

“L—let go?” Harry stammers, “Are you crazy.” Harry nearly wants to scream when Louis takes one of his hands off the handle of the broom. “Louis!” He screeches, “We’re flying! Fucking hell!! Don’t take your hands off the broom!!”

         

But then Harry feels warmth enclose one of his fisted hands. Louis carefully and slowly loosens Harry’s hold and laces their fingers together. “Just breathe.” He says, “Close your eyes and breathe, count to ten and open ‘em.” Harry does as he is told. He closes his eyes and he breathes in and out, all the while feeling the heat of Louis’ fingers travel across to his. He counts to ten in slow breathes before he opens his eyes. Louis’ hand is a stilling ground on him, makes him feel alright and steals away the panic he had felt earlier.

         

Silence ensues as Harry takes in the scenery. It actually does feel incredible to fly, his feet are not touching the ground and his body is afloat, there’s no gravity to pull him down. Louis is flying around the field in circles a few feet off the ground and Harry is starting to love it.

         

Louis takes them higher; the longer Harry says nothing but squeezes his hand in agreement. The higher they go, the smaller the field starts to look, the friendlier the wind feels on his cheeks, and Louis’ touch is pacifying. He doesn’t feel the nausea anymore, more like he’s free. He feels the thrum in his veins to scour the world on this broom cuddled with Louis.

         

“Doesn’t seem so bad now does it Curly?” Louis interrupts his thoughts and Harry hums. He waves to Niall and Liam who reciprocate it. He’s drinking in the height he is at, the sky that seems touchable and the distant parts of the town near the pitch.

         

Eventually he sinks into the lovely feeling that buzzes in him as they fly. His hands are unclenched but they’re still wrapped around Louis’ waist and he lays the side of his head on Louis’ back, a smile playing on his lips. Louis doesn’t seem to be deterred by Harry’s actions since their hands are still intertwined.

        

“I’d zip us higher and far but this broom can’t do that with a weight of two. You wanna try flying by yourself?” Says Louis after awhile. Harry nods against his back.

         

“I love this feeling.” He says in a drowsy sort of tone.

         

“This is what flying feels like Haz.” He quite agrees with Louis. They lower onto the ground inch by inch – Harry knows that it’s because of him Louis takes this flying thing cautiously, he’s seen the man simply taking off and landing like canons fired and falling without a care –until their feet hit the ground with a soft _plop_.

         

“How’d you like it Hazza?!” Niall calls from across the bleachers, waving his hand madly in the air.

         

Not trusting his voice to do the talking, Harry raises both his hands and gives two thumbs up as way of a response. Niall repeats Harry’s actions and they grin. Harry picks up the _OrangeFlame_ and joins Louis again, this time waiting for instructions.

         

“Follow my lead.” Louis instructs and they both mount their brooms. “You’ve got to kick off hard from the ground and then try to keep your broom steady as you hover.” Louis simply flies on his broom around to Harry so he can help him out. “Are you feeling stable enough?” Harry’s grip on his broom is tight but he feels slightly wobbly like when those trapeze acts try the rope for the first time.

         

Louis waits a few moments until Harry is adjusted before he continues. “Now you lean forward and—“ Harry’s broom takes him off even before Louis can finish his sentence which causes Louis to cackle a curt laugh and follow Harry when he gives a terrified shriek. “It’s alright. You’ll get used to it in a jiffy.”

         

Gradually, Harry does get used to the feeling of controlling the broom but there’s a few times when he is unbalanced and has to tighten his thighs on the broomstick, his feet press hard on the foot rests. He feels safe though with Louis flying beside him in a similar pace.

         

That’s until they steer their brooms to turn around and Harry goes completely out of balance, one of his feet losing position of the foot rest. His body wobbles and the broom is unsteady as it flies, threatening to endanger him. Yet that’s exactly what happens when Harry gives a startling scream and loses stability all together. His other foot slips off too, causing him to fall but he hangs on tight with his hands wrapped around the broomstick.

         

Louis having heard his shout does a double take and immediately starts flying towards him. Harry is hyperventilating and shouting out in fear, “Lou—oh god! Fuck!! Help me…” It’s an incoherent trail of sentences that he spews out, as he feels his sweaty palms loosen their grip. He shouldn’t have removed his mittens. He can’t really think of anything else but getting to safety. Louis is fussing anxiously, trying to help him back onto his broom with one hand.

         

“Get on my broom.” Louis says afterwards but Harry’s broom quickly jerks forward, carrying him away.

         

“Sweet Merlin’s beard! Please don’t let me die today.” Harry mutters realizing that screaming won’t do any good. The broom keeps jerking him away like he’s a piece of meat. The sweatier his palms get, the more his grip loosens. He passes the bleachers where he can hear Niall’s voice shouting something he can’t decipher.

         

“Use your wand Harry!” He hears Louis shout as he tries to catch up with Harry. And fucking hell, he doesn’t have a wand—

         

He feels himself dropping, like a heavy stone. He’s not clutching the broom anymore and the sound of air is buzzing in his ears, passing him like random bursts of heavy breezes, sort of like bullets zipping past his ears. That’s when he realizes he’s falling and he’s going to hit the ground any moment and die or even break his neck.

         

“Harry!” He can’t distinguish whether it’s just one voice or three different voices but either way, his friends are shouting his name as he’s _falling.._.

         

He can’t do anything about it can he? He’s unarmed and he doesn’t have wings.

         

“ _Calliciato!”_ Louis shouts. Harry squeezes his eyes shut as he reaches the ground faster, air resistance doing nothing to slow him down.

         

It doesn’t hurt.

         

He doesn’t feel a spike of pain course through his body at all and he wants to laugh. Did he die? Is he in heaven? Because heaven is the only explanation as to why he’s feeling intact.

         

“You fucking idiot!” He hears heavy breaths near his ear, and the voice belongs to Louis. He opens one eye to look at a heaving Louis who’s quickly joined by Liam and Niall. When he tries to sit up, he realizes he’s not touching the ground, it’s like he’s floating inches above wet land. He realizes Louis had casted the incantation to obviously pillow his fall, he couldn’t be more grateful. He didn’t die.

         

“That was scary mate.” Niall says.

         

Harry shifts so he can properly sit with his left leg outstretched and his right one folded underneath. Louis has his hand on Harry’s back. He can feel the hot touch through the material of his jumper and as quick as lightening Louis pulls him into a hug, more like a death grip. “You scared all of us.” He says, “Don’t ever do shit like that again.” Harry hugs him back, trying his best to breathe.

         

“Why didn’t you use your wand?” Liam seems annoyed by the fright he has had, and Harry can tell that he’s trying to school it into a comforting expression. “You could have died, broken some bones even but like—that’s risky.”

         

Harry bows his head as soon as Louis lets go of him and plops down to sit next to him. He can feel the shame swathing him in a red cloth. He bites his lip and fiddles with his fingers. The silence tells him that they’re awaiting an answer and he could easily say something similar like, that he lost track of his bearings as he fell or that he couldn’t concentrate on getting out his wand in the heat of the moment. But every time one of the boys questioned him about magic or something related, he had evaded answering directly and instead given a vague answer or changed the subject because he knew there would be a day when he had to tell them the truth. And when that day comes, the lies he had told them before would speak so hideously of his character. The simple fact that he told lies would make him look completely bad and horrid.

         

“I don’t have a wand.” He finally says, gulping the humiliation threatening to rip out. He wants to be sick, just wish he could disappear or have the earth swallow him whole.

        

“What?” He can hear the tone of confusion laced in Louis’ voice just as Niall says, “Eh?” and Liam goes, “Did you forget it? Lose it?”

         

“I don’t have a wand.” Harry repeats, not daring to raise his head to look them in the eyes. He’s a coward, he knows. “I can’t do magic. I didn’t attend Hogwarts. I barely know everything about the wizarding world.”

         

“Mate…” Niall drawls, confounded.

         

“I didn’t expect a mystery Styles.” Louis says after a beat or two.

         

It’s Liam who makes light of the situation. “Come on.” He urges Harry, lifting him by the armpits and helping him stand, “Let’s clean up and pack up. We can talk over a drink or meal. Boys?” Harry sees Liam give the two boys an expectant look and they hastily nod.

         

“Yeah alright.” Louis pulls Harry into another hug, Harry falling into it easily as Louis whispers in his ear. “Just so you know, I’m given you shit for risking your life but whatever you have to say, you’re still my new best mate.” Harry smiles secretly.

         

Then he’s herded away to the locker rooms, Niall slinging an arm over his shoulder and Louis’ hand around his waist. Liam offers to carry his broom, shooting a soft smile of reassurance his way.

         

They end up going to a random restaurant in Yorkshire, England, quite close to the stadium, after having cleaned up. The three boys have discarded their robes for casual clothes. Its Liam’s first time being out in Muggle London and it’s all new to him. Harry can’t help looking out for his expressions at every place they pass. It makes him feel proud of himself for once, that he knows so much about the Muggle world and can surprise the boys by showing them stuff.

               

“Do they serve what we eat back at Hogsmeade?” Liam asks when they’re seated in a four person booth. Louis is seated beside Harry, their legs touching under the table. Harry had proposed that lunch was completely on him, giving no space for any of them to argue. They don’t try very hard either since none of them have any Muggle money on them. Harry orders red wine for all of them and points out the tastiest meals on the menu so the boys can choose for themselves.

 

“So…” Louis drawls when they’re halfway through their meals. “What’s the story?”

         

Harry pauses, looking up to find three heads staring at him. Liam subtlety tries to look away, bringing a piece of roast chicken to his lips. Harry drops the spoon carefully back into his bowl of stew and takes a sip out of his wine in hopes that it will calm his nerves.

         

Steady, slow and deep breathes. He has to keep himself under control, keep that metal safe of emotions restrained unless he goes all loco and uncontrollably breaks down. “I started living with my Nan when I was six. Gemma was ten at the time.” The three boys are all looking at him and it only propels to make him even jittery. Their food would go cold too by the time he finishes the tale so he supposes they should eat. It’d make him feel better mostly. “Can we—can we eat?” He gestures to the food, curling his toes in his boots, “I’d feel much better when you’re all not looking at me like I’m roast beef for dinner.” It attains a laugh from them, Niall’s laugh being the loudest.

         

He feels a hand on his knee. Louis squeezes and rubs his thumb in circles and Harry knows it’s a form of reassurance, a gesture of purely grounding comfort. He wants to put his hand on top of Louis’ but he thinks better of it and holds onto the porcelain bowl instead.

         

“Anyway.” He continues. He can only cringe when Niall stuffs half of the bread into his mouth. “Gemma received her acceptance letter at eleven, I was only nine. We were told of this magical world. We were so happy. Gems and I are the only witch and wizard to have appeared after two generations of non magical folk in our family tree.” He swallows a spoonful of stew, grateful for the minute pause. “Gems attended Hogwarts and when I finally received my acceptance letter…I didn’t go.” He knows its coming. He knows what their expressions are going to be, bewildered, and it’s only for the better that he looks none of them in the eye. Liam stops cutting up his chicken, there’s an animalistic _hrmmmph_ from Niall and Louis’ grip tightens.

         

“I couldn’t leave my grandmother alone, to live by herself while I would be at a school quite far away from home. She was my only family left.” He gasps as he swallows a sob. He brings up a hand to muffle his mouth.

         

“Harry…” Louis’ voice is a soft whisper. He runs his hand across the span of Harry’s thigh in comforting strokes. “You don’t have to say anything more. It’s alright. You don’t owe us anything.” They have finally caught onto the one thing Harry cannot say, cannot let his lips form the words and his tongue make the sound. But he does have to let it out eventually doesn’t he? There has to be a day when he has to tell his story and his friends are the only rocks in his life right now. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knows he will come clean to Zayn too, someday. Clenching the hand over his mouth into a fist, he digs his nails into the skin, sure to leave crescent shaped marks on his palm. He needs a few minutes to regain his bearings and the others are aware, retreating to their meal soundly.

         

“I lived and studied in Barnton, living with Nan, and I had no regrets whatsoever. Gems would always come home for the holidays and she wrote to us often. She educated me on the stuff about the wizarding world and I didn’t feel like I was missing anything much at the time.” He’s starting to feel better at least with the stew filling up his stomach and warming him. He lightly brushes his hand against Louis’. “I went to Uni and Gemma graduated from Hogwarts, got a teaching post and settled in Hogsmeade and Nan—she—um –she…” He chokes on a sob, feeling embarrassed afterwards. He’s a grown man and nearly crying in front of three boys who happen to be his friends.

         

Liam reaches over and places a comforting hand on his. “Hey.” He says until Harry looks up at him, “You don’t have to say it.”

         

“Four months after I graduated.” He finishes with every ounce of courage he can muster.

         

Silence.

         

Silence settles around their table except for the clatter in the restaurant. To the rest of the world Harry’s pain is surely insignificant. Harry’s trying not to burst, not to crack open and spill his insides. It hurt. It’s been years of bearing the pain of his parents and Nan’s deaths, and years of carrying the humiliating burden of knowing that he is a wizard but having no skill at all.

         

He does not regret being by his grandmother’s side, not at all. He wouldn’t have gotten through a year at Hogwarts even if he went because Nan meant so much more to him. But she’s not alive anymore and he’s the only one living a life in London when he could live with Gemma if not for the lack of magical ability. Sometimes he wishes he was a Muggle instead, at least a squib.

         

And then as he breathes, and gravity brings him down, it’s all gone. That tight fear he felt and constricted nerves have vanished like magic. He feels everything sweep out of his body with a swift _whoosh_. He slumps back against his seat feeling so relieved. It’s like breathing air after being underwater for a long time, like seeing civilization after a world war. It’s like finally feeling the numbness being pierced through and giving him a new life. And what’s amazing is that his friends are still here with him even after all that he had just said.

         

“That’s when you settled in London with your bestie Zayn.” Niall finally intersects his piece a few minutes later after Harry has regained himself and has begun eating. “And then you met me, the most exquisite creature full of luck and charm and booze.” Harry quirks an eyebrow as Louis and Liam burst into laughter. Niall throws a few bread crumbs at Harry for that. “You’re buying me an extra large lemon tart with cream.”

         

“I could totally escape and leave you to pay the bill you know.” Harry says, “But I’m a very nice person so—“

         

“You’ll buy him a two inch tart.” Louis cuts him off and grins evilly at Niall.

         

“Fuck you Tommo.” Niall balls up the napkin and throws it straight at Louis’ face.

         

It’s Liam who has to stop the two of them tearing and throwing pieces of tissue paper at each other. Harry laughs, unconsciously curling his fingers around Louis’ hand where it’s still seated atop Harry’s thigh. “Guys, stop acting like kids.” Liam groans, collecting the pieces of tissue, “Louis you’re the oldest, you’re supposed to be an example.”

         

“Like what.” Louis asks with a smirk. He sneaks his arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him into his side, “Don’t live while you’re young kids? Or keep chugging that Firewhiskey until you forget your own name?”

         

“Sometimes I wonder how you ever ended up in Gryffindor.” Liam sighs as Niall sticks his tongue out at Louis and sneakily puts a balled up tissue down Liam’s shirt.

         

“Gryffindor is my honour.” Louis puffs up his chest before he starts cackling when Liam tries to get the tissue out of his shirt. Harry is watching him with light amusement but then Louis turns and stares straight into his eyes, like they’re locked in their gazes.

         

“What houses were you and Niall in?” Harry asks Liam when Louis looks away.

         

“We’re Hufflepuffs.” Niall replies instead, pushing at Liam from the side, “We’re the loyal herd.”

         

Louis laughs just to irk Niall into glaring at him. Apparently Liam can’t help smiling either.

                               

Harry gets them all desserts. A lemon tart for Niall as promised, bowls of chocolate and vanilla ice cream for him and Louis and a toffee pudding for Liam. Louis leans in close to Harry and tugs at a strand of his hair to get his attention. Louis is an adult and silly, strongly safe and trustworthy which makes it completely difficult for Harry to stop thinking of him. Harry hums in response and leans in closer.

         

“I’m proud of you.” Louis whispers and Harry simply sags. His eyes study the older man’s face, a soft smile playing across his lips and an expression that Harry can’t place but knows is positively just for him only.

         

“Thank you.” Harry whispers back with a shy smile secretly…gosh it makes Harry’s heart beat like a drum because it’s always _Louis Louis Louis_ now and it’s not even been that long since they’ve known each other. Secretly they interlace their hands under the table and neither looks at the other but has smiles lighting up their faces.

        

-

         

Louis ends up getting introduced to Zayn a few days later and from then on, he’s at Harry’s flat at least three times a week. Harry can tell that he’s really enjoying himself. Liam joins them too sometimes mostly since Niall and Louis pester him to join the group of five. Zayn, although he looks sceptical doesn’t suspect a thing. He buys the whole _Niall and I met these awesome blokes at a diner and ever since Niall’s been hanging out with them, and I got pulled into the circle_ story.

         

When the five of them are together, there are movie nights or a night out at the pub that’s run by one of Niall’s friends or a big dinner for all of them. Gillen is always present during those dinners and eventually she coaxes Liam to bring Sophia along. Of course he has told Sophia everything, and she and Liam try to act as discreetly as possible because they’re not people who are used to flaunting about in casual wear without using magic every waking moment. Harry’s the one who had to once give Sophia a friendly push away from the sink before she could whip out her wand to charm the dishes to wash themselves.

         

It’s Louis though who comes over very very often, even for sleepovers and that’s saying something because not even Niall spends time at Harry and Zayn’s flat that much. Zayn’s not always at the flat which is really an advantage because Louis and Harry get to laze around watching television programmes and being all cuddly with each other whilst eating snacks. He’s even gotten Harry to show him all sorts of movies that exists in the Muggle world. He’s also taken a liking to Harry’s cereal and is almost always seen with the cereal box in hand during the mornings. He loves Harry’s cooking to the extent that Harry had promised to give him a cooking lesson sometime.

         

Harry takes him out with him when he goes for a walk or takes the bus and train for his photography travels. He shows him how to capture special moments, how to have an eye for beautiful scenery. A quarter of his camera roll is filled with shots taken by Louis, some of it are just the two of them at different parts of the city, and some of it are of them making funny faces at each other. Harry has some of his own shots quite subtly taken of only Louis. The blue eyed man’s smile is of such delicate carving that Harry believes it to be so rare. Louis’ crinkle eyed smile makes his mind a maze of scribbles and his heart to grow wings and escape his chest. Frankly speaking, he believes the sneaky little cupid had shot an arrow because he’s completely and madly entranced and consumed by the man.

         

Their first kiss is neither an accident nor planned. Although Liam and Louis have a fair knowledge of electronic devices and the internet and Louis tunes into the English station on the family radio, he has no idea what football is. And so Harry had offered to teach him the gruelling sport, well at least to him it’s gruelling since his feet are not exactly in sync with the rest of his body.

         

“How did you even come to know about the Muggle stuff?” Harry asks as they walk to the nearest park. Louis’ twirling the football in his hands and they’re both wearing shorts and loose, breezy t-shirts.

         

“Niall.” Louis tells him, “He got me hooked on the internet I tell you but me dad won’t have a laptop in the house, says it’s vile stuff.”

         

“How do you use the laptop then?”

         

“Niall’s one. Liam uses it too although he denies that he loves Muggle stuff.”

         

“Well I’m glad you’re part of the world I live in cuz you know it’d be weird if you were completely a wizard. Zayn would think I’d found you from space.”

         

“But I am from space.” Harry laughs and Louis bumps into him. “Have you seen me? I’m space material.”          

         

“It’s debatable.” Harry cocks his head to the side and gives a grin, “Now come on, we’ve got football to learn.”

         

“My beautiful coach.” Louis pretends to swoon.

         

Harry blushes at that. Louis just called him beautiful without forethought. “I’m a lot of things but a coach. I wouldn’t get past a mile without tangling my limbs and falling head first.”

         

Harry gives a one on one guide to the game which he had asked help from Niall beforehand, because Google was messing with his mind. Niall couldn’t join them for football because he has a gig somewhere. Harry to blink twice with his jaw dropped when Niall had confirmed that yes he’s a singing sensation in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. “It’s just a number of players, two opposing teams, a ball, goal keepers and the goal of trying to get the ball into the opposing team’s net.” Harry says after he finishes explaining the rules of the game.

         

“But in this case,” Louis begins, “There are only two players. How do we--?”

         

“Simple.” Harry smirks, “Just dribble the ball and try to get it past me without me trying to get it away from you. Pretend we’re both Chasers fighting for the Quaffle except on the ground.”

         

Louis laughs and throws the ball to Harry who catches it very perfectly for someone who’s clumsy. “Show me.”

        

  -

         

A full hour later, sweat layering their skin and making their clothes stick to their bodies, the two of them are huffing like pups that have been running around the neighbourhood. Harry’s determined attempts of trying to prevent Louis from getting the ball has resulted in a fruitless void of loss every bloody time that it’s made him frustrated what with the adrenaline rushing through his body like venom but in a good way. So foregoing the rules of the game at last, he picks up the ball and starts running away from Louis who gasps and begins to put on an adorable stampede of objections.

         

Harry cackles like a hen, throwing his head back every few seconds to see Louis taking after him but he should know better since Louis’ a smooth runner unlike himself.

         

“Haz that is so unfair.” Louis whines loudly but Harry can’t say anything back because he’s practically huffing for breathe. He might need an oxygen tank later. “You’re unbelievable! I’ll get you back for this.”

         

He’s actually enjoying this and has no desire to stop whatsoever even though he’s legs feel like they’re turning to pulp. Harry glances behind him as usual and his eyes go wide at the sight of Louis pulling out his wand.

         

“You better not do that!!” Harry shouts panting but he’s still running, slowing down to a jog. The next moment he feels the football being ripped from his arms and he turns around as quick as lightning to see the ball levitating mid air, Louis’ wand pointed at it. “Louiiiiiiiiis!!” Harry cries out or more like whines like a little child but the man simply smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.

         

Just as the ball moves towards Louis and falls right into his hands, Harry rushes forward to tackle the ball out of him. Louis seeing the oncoming force tries to move out of the way but instead accidently trips Harry which sends them both onto the ground with a thump. “Merlin’s—“ Louis groans at the weight on him, “Haz you okay?”

         

“More than okay.” Harry replies in a content tone, “I’ve sprained my ankle or at least I think so.” Louis cranes his neck to look at Harry lying haphazardly on him, eyes closed and hands spread out as if he’s given up literally everything. “I’m tired.”

         

“So am I.” Louis agrees throwing his head back onto the grass and staring at the sky that’s darkening. “Let’s call it quits for today.”

         

“You mean we’re playing footie another day?” He sounds mortified.

         

“Well, don’t you want to?”

         

Just because it’s Louis, Harry obliges. He can never say no even if he tried to. “Sounds good but I’m not moving right now. You make a comfy pillow.”

         

“That’s a first.” Harry can hear the rumble of Louis’ laugher vibrating against him. He raises his head from where it’s laying on Louis’ chest; the football lays inches away from Louis’ head. Their eyes lock the instant Harry looks at Louis for the other had been watching him all along.

         

It’s like they’re suspended in time, frozen, just blinking and staring. The longer they look into each other’s eyes, the more Harry believes he can see into the depths of blue. The colour swirls like smoke, flecks of gold dust the irises and the pupils dilate. Harry moves slowly, inch by inch, holding his breath in fear of breaking the moment but in reality he’s too hooked to even attempt to break the moment. In the flash of a second their faces are inches apart and Harry can feel Louis’ breath ghost over his face, can feel his heart thudding underneath him.

         

He gulps as he moves in closer and feels Louis’ arms wrap around his waist bit by bit. His pulse quickens as he reads Louis’ face for any sign of hesitation before he moves nearer and nearer till their lips are touching. Harry brushes his lips against Louis’, breathing out his anticipation. Without wasting a second more, he locks their lips, Louis’ grip around his waist tightening with a muffled gasp. There’s only a brief moment of shock before Louis registers into reality and starts kissing him back. Harry licks at the seam of his lips, asking for entrance and he groans as Louis parts them.

         

Harry brings his hand to cup at Louis’ cheek, moving his tongue against Louis’. Louis moans as Harry begins to suck on his tongue, letting out sloppy sucking sounds into the night air. His hands stroke Harry’s sides and Harry brings his free hand to card through Louis’ feather light hair, pulling another groan out of him. Bliss floods his every limb when he sucks and tastes Louis, their lips swelling and slick with spit.

         

Their hands do nothing more than stroke and pull and touch. Harry feels his cock twitch and he wants to move, wants to grind down but this is neither the time nor place to rush into things without words. Louis bites down on Harry’s bottom lip and suckles it into his mouth. Harry gasps and moans into his mouth, their breathe intermingling now heavy and ragged.

         

When they break apart, they’re wheezing in need of air. Harry doesn’t move out of the way and Louis doesn’t take his hands off. They simply gaze into each other with soft smiles playing upon their swollen, red lips. Harry huffs a laugh, watching Louis’ eyes crinkle at the sound of it. He lays his chin upon Louis’ chest, rising and falling as he smiles at Louis unable to take his eyes off the beauty. Louis’ fingers presses into his hips just slightly like he’s communicating with him.

         

“That went well.” Louis breaks the silence a minute or two after.

         

Harry hums contently. He’s feeling lazy and lethargic and doesn’t want to leave the comfy position he has found. The people in the park have long since left once the sun set. It’s quite dark and Harry’s sure it’s past eight. Slowly he rolls away and tumbles to sidle right into Louis’ side, the man’s hands loosening from around Harry’s waist in the process.

         

The slight jostle has him turning his head to see Louis search for his wand somewhere on the ground. “Found it.” Louis says and then he points it at Harry’s plain white t-shirt.

         

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, raising his eyes to look at him.

         

“ _Colovaria.”_ Louis says and Harry blinks before looking down to see what the other is staring at. The colour of his shirt has changed into a cadmium yellow colour which makes him laugh the instant he sees it.

         

“I want to learn to do that.” He says when he finally calms down, Louis looking on with that sort of look Finn looks at Gemma. Harry doesn’t want to think about it really. “Would you?”

         

“What?”

         

“Teach me to do that spell?”

         

“So you don’t need to change your outfits and all?” Louis asks with a smirk.

         

Harry lightly slaps at his chest. “Maybe.”

         

It’s nice, Harry thinks, them laying on their backs and gazing at the sky dotted with stars like tiny diamonds. The air is always cool during the nights and it’s drying their sweat even if the thought sounds gross. He relishes it, never has done it with anyone, not even Oliver. Louis’ different in a good way, he’s more like the friend he can always be certain to understand things. He is the person Harry feels like they have a connection between, an unspoken connection that one day they would have to speak about.

         

“We can do it you know.” Louis interrupts his thoughts, “If you want.”

         

Keeping eye contact, Harry turns on his side to face Louis and uses his arm as a pillow for his head. “How would we do it?”

         

He lets out an audible exhale and folds his hands on his stomach. “You’re a wizard Harry.” Says Louis, “And you deserve to actually do stuff that we do. There’s always a first time for everything.” Harry just about opens his mouth to interrupt but Louis shushes him and goes on, “We could go to Ollivander’s and get a wand for you.”               

         

“Really?” Harry cuts in with a small squeal.

         

“Yeah, why not? I’m sure my school spell books are somewhere in the household and Gemma could help you out too. Niall and Liam would probably be happy to do the same.”

         

Harry reaches out to grip Louis’ forearm in gratefulness, “That would be—that would be really nice.”

         

Louis smiles, “I’m glad. You up for it?”

         

“Definitely.” Agrees Harry after a bit and edges even closer to Louis so there’s barely an inch of space between them, “I want to learn to do the Patronus spell. It looks so bloody cool.”

         

“It is.” He agrees, “And you won’t even need to use the Portkey then, you can just Disapparate anytime.

         

“Gemma said the first time she did it, she made herself sick.” Harry says.

         

“Some people can’t handle it.”

         

“She couldn’t her first time drinking alcohol either.” Harry snorts.

         

“That’s mean H.” But Louis laughs too anyway.

         

“She gave me hell when I couldn’t stomach mine, it’s only fair.”

         

“Hmmmm.”

         

“What’s your Patronus anyway?” He asks in curiosity. Actually he’d always wanted to know.

         

He wonders if the redness that immediately travels all over Louis’ face is his imagination or reality. “It’s um—a lion?”

         

“You asking or telling?”

         

“It’s a lion.”

         

“Like you.”

         

“What?” But he’s smiling so it’s a good sign.

         

Harry gently jabs at where Louis’ heart is. “Your Patronus is a lion like you. You’re a human lion Lou but you have a soft heart inside.”

        

“And I thought you were only a photographer.” Laughs Louis.

         

“Heeeyy! I can be poetic when I want. Runs in me blood. I wonder what Patronus mine might be.”

         

“You wonder?” Louis scoffs, “It’s obviously going to be a bunny or a baby dear or something.”

         

Harry gives him a look, “Why? You don’t think I qualify for a cheetah or something?”

         

“You’re too soft for that Haz.”

         

“You haven’t seen me when I’m angry.”

         

“I don’t need to.” Louis says, turning on his side to face Harry too, “I can just imagine.”

         

“Okay.” Harry wills, “Tell me then what you imagine it to be.”

         

“You—“ Harry’s eyes track the movement of Louis’ hand reaching forward to tuck a stray curl behind his ear, “You quite obviously pout and stamp your feet with your arms crossed until someone gives in or says you’re right.”  

         

He gasps which makes Louis curl and laugh heartily. “I do no such thing Tomlinson!”

         

Louis only grins, moving his hand from Harry’s hair to rest it on his cheek. “Shall we head back to the flat? It’s dark and I don’t quite fancy being jumped by bugs.”

         

“Scaredy cat.” Harry says but gets up with Louis anyway and dusts himself off. “You gonna change the colour of my shirt? Don’t want Zayn looking at me weird.”

         

“Yeah, Sure.” Louis digs his wand out of his back pocket and points it at Harry whispering the counter charm so that his shirt turns back to its normal colour, white. “There.”

         

“Thanks.” He picks up the football and joins Louis who wraps an arm around his shoulder.

         

“ _Lumos”_ Louis mutters and the tip of his wand illuminates with a blue light. _Woah!_ Harry’s sure his eyes are as big as saucers but he shakes out of it when Louis pulls him along and they begin their walk back to his flat.

         

The entire flat is lights out when they get there. Luckily Harry has his key which they use to enter the place. After a dinner of tuna salad sandwiches, Harry gets ready for bed after a warm shower while Louis is taking his turn in the bathroom. As usual he gets under the covers in just his boxers and listens to the soothing sound of the pattering water in the shower.

         

-

         

“Hey!” Harry immediately looks towards the doorway where Louis stands, wearing fresh clothes belonging to Harry. He points to the hallway where he usually takes the sofa, decked with a pillow and blankets whenever he’s over. “So I’m gonna head to bed. Good night H.”

         

“We can share the bed Lou.” Harry suggests, sitting up on his elbows.

         

“Would you be alright with that?” Louis asks shifting on his feet from where he’s leaning against the doorframe. He slowly approaches the bed.

         

“Awww come on.” Harry gives him a look of disbelief and grabs him by the hand, pulling him onto the bed. Louis falls on top of him with an _ooof_. “We’ve already kissed, what’s there to make awkward?”

         

Louis laughs and crawls over Harry to take the left side of the bed. “Nothing I guess.”

         

“Exactly.”

         

He is flickering in and out of sleep yet he is aware that Louis is awake beside him. “When can we go to Ollivanders?” He asks sleepily, muffling a yawn.

         

Having his back towards Harry the entire time, Louis finally turns around. “When do you want to go? I’ve got nothing to do much this week except for an interview or something.”

         

“Tomorrow?”

         

“You’re really excited.” Louis pinches his cheek, and then thumbs at it in circles. Harry moves into his touch like a magnet.

         

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” He says. It’s true. The excitement has been running around his mind in circles and his body feels hyperactive even though he’s sleepy, it’s like there’s so much adrenaline but it’s just the anticipation. “I can’t believe that I’ll finally be able to do magic like the rest of you.”

         

“We’ll leave tomorrow.” Louis confirms, softly smiling at Harry, “Can’t validate a time though but I’ll come here when I can and then we’ll go.”

         

“Okay, that sounds good.” Harry rolls onto his side, Louis’ hand still on his cheek and flutters his eyes shut. “Good night Lou.”

         

“Night Haz.”

         

It takes him awhile considering that he woke himself up just as he was about to sleep but he does drop like a log from all the energy taken out of him from playing football.

         

-

         

Harry enters Ollivanders for the second time in his life, the first time not lasting much of a memory, more like a hazy blur of events.

         

“I remember coming here to get my wand.” Louis says.

         

The shop reads _Ollivanders_ in big gold letters and _Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_ written underneath. He doesn’t think Ollivander runs it anymore, the man has got to be dead or at least as far as he can remember when Gemma came to get her wand it was totally someone else. It won’t hurt to ask Louis so he does.

         

“One of his great great great granddaughters runs it now.”

         

A young woman with bright red hair decked in turquoise green robes greets them from behind the counter. It’s just as he can faintly remember, thousands of narrow boxes piled right up to the ceiling except that the place is much bigger and is clean as a hospital wing.

         

“I’m Florence Ollivander. May I help you Sirs?” Her voice comes out soft and squeaky like a mouse.

         

“We’re here for a wand.” Louis steps forward, “My friend requires a wand.”

        

Florence’s eyebrows arch and her mouth slightly drops open. “I—uh—yes sure. Come along. It’s just that it’s always been first years heading to school who come here most of the time.”

         

“Ah.” Louis nods as Florence takes out a measuring tape from a drawer at the counter, “I’m Louis Tomlinson and this is Harry Styles. Your brother was here I think when I first came to get my wand.”

         

At the mention of Louis’ name Florence almost jumps but she seems to control herself. “Are you right or left handed Mr. Styles?”

         

“Right.” Harry watches in fascination when the tape unrolls and starts measuring from his shoulder to the floor all by itself.

         

Florence who’s now taking down a few boxes from some shelves says, “Don’t mind the measuring tape Sir. It’s not really required but it helps me figure out wand types easily instead of having to test each and every one.” Harry nods, not taking his eyes off the tape that’s moving to measure the distance between his wrist and fingers. “Here’s a unicorn hair Sir, just give it a wave or say a spell, works either way.”

         

He looks to Louis who urges him to try. Harry waves the wand but nothing happens, he even tries the spell Louis had done the night before to illuminate his wand, it doesn’t work either. They go through a variety of Dragon Heartstrings, Unicorn hairs and Thestral tail hairs until one wand with intricate designs at the base of it throws the stuff on the counter onto the floor when Harry gives it a swish. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Harry gasps, rushing to help Florence pick up the stuff. Luckily none of them are fragile items.

         

“I guess that’s your wand then Sir.” The woman gives a small smile and takes the wand from him. “Cypress with an Unicorn core, ten and three quarter inches and quite flexible.” She puts it into the box, closes it and gives it to Harry. “That’ll be eight galleons.”

         

“Thank you.” Louis says and drops eight pieces of gold onto the counter as Harry ribs him.

               

“I could have paid.” Harry insists when they’re out of the store, wand sitting in a small plastic bag.

               

“Yeah but you need to have your Muggle money converted.” Louis points out.

               

Harry huffs and takes out his wand because he can’t not keep it sitting in that bag. He wants to hold it in his hands and marvel at it. “What did she mean by quite flexible?”

               

“Flexibility is the degree of willingness or sort of the wands adaptability to change.” Louis explains, steering Harry towards the left lane with a hand on his waist. Harry’s examining the wand in his hands, quite carefully and interestingly.

               

“Oh. What’s your wand type then?”

               

“It’s a Cedar with Dragon core and unbending.”

               

“Does that mean yours is stronger than mine?” He’s curious not jealous or anything.

               

Louis laughs and nudges them together, “Kind of but the wand chooses its master and decides whether to obey or not. You and your wand have the same personality.”

               

“I’m going to name her Cyrica.” Harry mumbles, “I have the urge to do a spell right now.”

 

Louis laughs. “Can I kiss you?” It’s tentative and his fingers twitch at Harry’s side. Harry looks at Louis with a smile and nods. He does want to kiss him again. Louis ducks and presses a quick kiss on his lips, thumbing the flesh after. “You are one to name your wand.” And when Harry glares at him, he puts his hands up in surrender, “Not that it’s bad or anything. Here—“He takes the wand out of Harry’s hand and tucks it into Harry’s pocket. “You’ll need to stitch a belt loop on the inside of your jeans or something so you can keep it with you at all times.”

               

“Or buy some robes.”

               

“Yeah.” Louis nods, “If you want to. We could head to Madam Malkin’s and find you some nice robes.”

               

“Zayn’s going to pop his eyes out.” Harry laughs but all the same agrees to get some robes at Malkin’s. He has nothing to lose really and he’s just really excited and feeling powerful with a wand on him. He has his own fucking wand. He literally can’t believe it. He feels like a real wizard now.

               

-

               

They’re pouring through a stack of school books Louis had brought after searching through the attic in his manor. Zayn’s at work so there’s no threat whatsoever and Niall promised to come over for lunch. Harry’s seated on the sofa, going through _The Book of Charms and Spells_ textbook, Louis lying on the sofa with his legs on top of Harry’s lap and a book raised above him.

               

“This feels like a nice pre afternoon.” Louis says once he finally puts down the book, “I can’t go on without a cup of tea.”

               

“You want one?” Harry grumbles, “Now?”

               

“Please curly?”

               

Harry stares at him with a pouty expression but Louis does not relent at all until the very last moment but Harry gets off the sofa. “Alright, you owe me with help for lunch then.”

              

“Deal.” Louis shouts.

               

-

               

Cuddled on the sofa with Harry’s head on Louis’ chest and the television running Age of Ultron, they’re waiting for the boys. They had cooked lunch together, Louis helping out by doing very simple and less destructible stuff. Harry’s twirling his wand between his fingers, eyes locked on the screen but ears listening to the sound of Louis’ heartbeats. He keeps whispering _Lumos_ under his breath, has been trying to get the spell right for the last few minutes.

               

“Did you know that sometimes if you don’t get the spell correct, it could result in mass explosions?”

               

“What?” Harry startles, raising his head, “You should have told me.”

               

"This spell isn’t that dangerous unless you pronounce it wrong or something.” Louis chortles, “I once was transfiguring a beetle and instead took down the chandelier. Professor Debov was quick in his reflexes though.”

               

“Your adventures are maddening.” Harry groans, resting his head back.

               

“Your satin shirts are turning me on.” Louis retorts and Harry makes a snorting sound.

               

“Really?”

               

“Not really.” Louis shrugs and begins to card Harry’s loose curls, “But they look pretty on you.”

               

“You sap.” Harry murmurs. He raises his body to press his lips against Louis’ and bites down. Louis groans and his hands instantly come down to grip Harry by the waist. The sounds of them snogging greedily fill the air. Harry loses his wand somewhere in the sofa when he brings his hands up to tug at Louis’ strands.

               

That’s when the front door opens and Zayn finds them, kissing their faces off. “Oh god!” Zayn groans and they immediately pull apart, looking flushed and embarrassed. They straighten themselves as Zayn shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. “You guys dating now?” He shouts from the kitchen. Harry can hear the running of the tap. They look at each other, eyebrows raised; they hadn’t spoken about the dating part.

               

“I made lunch!” Harry says instead, pulling Louis along with him into the kitchen. “Did Niall say when he’ll be coming?”

               

“He’ll be home soon, don’t worry.” Zayn says but he eyes them with a look that tells Harry he’s in for an interrogation later. He hopes Louis stays the night, that way he can avoid Zayn. “What were you guys doing before the snogging session? Anything new? I’m fucking bored and tired.”

               

“Watching um—“Louis looks to Harry, “Some robot movie with lots of superheroes.”

               

Harry wants to laugh, really but he stifles it and goes, “Age of Ultron Zee.”

               

“Ahah.” Zayn pushes past them, ribbing Louis in the process who had tried to trip him, “I need to watch that. You coming or staying behind for another sexual session? Something I don’t need to see.”

               

“Coming, coming.” Harry shouts in between laughter but he kisses Louis, licking his lower lip with a wink before strolling into the hallway.

               

               

“And here I thought you boys loved me more.” Cuts in Niall’s voice over the sound of Thor fighting a robot. He’s hanging his coat on the coat hanger and leaning his guitar by the door. “I see you kissing the television’s arse.”

               

“Niall you’re home!” Harry shouts with glee. He has no idea when he traded Zayn for Niall. He still loves Zayn though, but Niall’s like the cute puppy he wants to wrap in a blanket and keep safe.

               

“I’m just here for lunch Haz.” Niall says but he hugs him all the same with a little pat on the back.

               

When Harry settles back into the sofa, against Louis, head on his shoulder and Niall takes his seat with a sigh of relief, Zayn opens his mouth. “Did you know these two have been going at it for awhile?” Harry hadn’t even said a word to Zayn, the little shit, yet apparently he has managed to work it out after seeing them. Niall gives a guilty look and Zayn groans. “Why does no one tell me these things? You’re all traitors. I need new friends.”

               

“Heeey!” Harry whines and reaches out with his leg to knock his foot against Zayn’s leg, “I’m a good friend. We were waiting to tell you, weren’t we Lou?” He looks to Louis with pleading eyes.

               

Swooping his head downwards to press a quick loving kiss, Louis chuckles before he answers. “Yeah—yeah we were going to inform you.”

               

“Yeah right.” Zayn scoffs but he gives them both warm smiles. He doesn’t mind obviously. “I think we better eat or I’ll die since I have had only a cream bun for breakfast.”

               

“And a coffee.” Harry adds.

               

“And a coffee.” Zayn repeats with a nod watching as Louis stands up with Harry to help dish out lunch.

               

-

               

They start dating two days later. It’s after their first date where Harry gets to see and buy stuff from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and a wholesome meal at Heckle Hashocks that they inform the boys of their official relationship. They’re happy of course and so is Gemma who had hugged and kissed them both when they had turned up at her back garden to deliver the news and spend the day. She had been extremely thrilled at the idea of Harry finally learning magic and had even stacked him a cardboard box of informative books she had bought and used. It’s a good thing because now he can share what she learnt.

               

Gemma had never said a word about Harry’s inability to do magic, never ever suggested he learn for she probably feared it would break him in some way. She had always taken into consideration about it and how he feels and thus the reason she travels and does magic stuff together, with him, where she never speaks of it instead thinks and does. Like when she went for the Quidditch World Cup with him using the Portkey, she could have Disapparated and asked him to take the Portkey, instead she shared the experience with him. And Harry has always appreciated her for all those lovely things she had done for him and he’s eager to share his journey with her now.

               

It’s the reporters who have finally caught up on Louis’ mystery friend or more clearly _The Country’s most famous Quidditch team Captain has a new tag along._ Louis, though he had gone for so long wearing his hood and trying to be as discreet as possible was finally discovered at the _Hog’s Head_ where he and Harry had gone for a drink. Luckily no one had snapped photos of them snogging but they are bound to be found out soon and then the _player_ titles will be flooding in like a tsunami. Louis’ parents have caught onto it too.

               

Harry’s not so much as bothered by it, considering that Liam, Louis and Niall are celebrities and he’s always in their presence and they know how to deal with the press. He doesn’t panic or feel the fear of being on the headlines, there’s three boys who keep him in the midst of them, making sure he’s okay.

               

He attends Louis’ Quidditch matches, the latest one being Puddlemere United against the Chudley Cannons. He’s decked in navy blue robes and a scarf, cheering and clapping loudly as he watches the team play. He himself keeps an eye out for the snitch, his Omniculars by his side. Liam and Niall are with him too, he had promised them earlier to support them on their match which happens to be the Wimbourne Wasps against the Kenmare Kestrals. The stadium is a sea of blue and orange and it feels like the Quidditch World Cup all over again.

               

-

               

It gets worse when the two of them have a special date on Valentine’s Day which entails a little trip to the theme park in Muggle London, and an Opera in the Wizarding world which afterwards they go for ice cream only to pass by a newspaper stand. The front of the newspaper has Harry and Louis moving past a crowd of reporters but Harry can’t read the title because he’s caught one word in it and his eyes are blurring in seconds. _Mudblood_.

               

Louis had wrapped his hands around him and pulled him away, shushing him with soft sounds and saying its okay but it isn’t. All along Harry had been embarrassed because he couldn’t do magic not that he was a Muggle-born but now that’s the only problem that’s setting him off. Because the Wizarding world has come to full attention of it, he’s under the eyes of the entire Wizarding world actually, scrutinized for being _Seeker, Louis Tomlinson’s Mudblood Boyfriend!_

               

Harry hadn’t stopped crying that day, had even crashed at Liam’s place, the three boys doting on him the entire day. He has no idea who could have known what he was but someone had tipped the reporters obviously or someone who knows of Gemma’s blood status and had connected him to her as siblings and given out the information. He’s angry and sad at the same time. Gemma comes to see him at his flat, greeting Zayn who has no idea why Harry’s brooding.

               

What’s even worse is that he doesn’t see Louis for almost a week, none of the boys do until Liam out of sheer desperation had sent Louis a letter with his owl only to receive one back saying that his parents had forbidden him access to the outside world for an entire week. Louis had profusely apologized but Harry had simply shook his head and snuggled with him in bed. Louis’ parents had asked him to break it off with Harry, that they did not want a Mudblood dating their son, it was a disgrace apparently. And just as Harry is recovering from the shit storm the media created, he’s plummeted into the Tomlinson family’s _does not fit the honourable household program_. And so Louis spends a good two weeks at Harry’s place because he does not want to see his family at all, nor the bloody storm of reporters.

               

-

               

Harry’s seated on the armchair with his laptop open and a mug of chocolate near as he filters through the photos he had taken this week. He’s finishing up his assignment, collecting the photos that seem fitting enough to send.

               

That’s when he hears the ear splitting screech that sounds through the entire flat. His ears could have burst! He could have gone deaf! Fucking hell! The screech reduces to small shouts and screams and minutes later before he can even sum up his energy to go see the commotion, Zayn’s rushing towards him, breathless.

               

“Haz!” He nearly shrieks himself and holds out a pair of green socks. _Oh._ He had entirely forgotten. He wants to laugh but his sorrow has been sitting in his belly for days that he can’t do it. “Mind explaining to me why your socks have become animated? I’m freaking out.”

               

“About that…” Harry scratches the back of his neck, closing the folders on his computer until his background of Louis making a silly face shows. He shuts his laptop and looks at Zayn who has a dazed look on his face.

               

“About that?” Zayn sounds hysterical. Merlin’s pants! “What am I missing? What is this? What’s going on? Am I hallucinating? I can assure you I didn’t take any drugs but like—“

               

“Shut up Zee.” Harry lightly chuckles. The fucking socks won’t stop screaming so he plucks them out of Zayn’s hands and starts walking towards the bathroom. “Come with me.”

               

The raven haired man stands there in the hallway, dazed, for a few minutes before he shakes his head and follows Harry. “Coming.” He says, still sounding like someone had messed with his head. Harry wishes Louis was here to see this. But then it hits him that he has to tell Zayn everything. It’s going to be a long day.

               

He fills a bucket with water and dumps the socks inside which immediately stop their screaming as they get soaked. “There.” He dusts his hands with a smirk and pushes the bucket closer to the bathtub with his foot. “Right.” He says when he sees Zayn by the doorway, looking a mixture of stunned and lost.

               

Gripping the man’s forearm, he pulls him onto his bed. Zayn goes down with soundlessly and Harry plops down beside him, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

               

“I’m a wizard.” Says Harry finally for lack of ideas on how to begin this conversation.

               

“What?” Zayn startles? Gasps? Gawks? Harry doesn’t know. Either way Zayn’s tone says that Harry has finally lost his mind.

               

“I’m a wizard.” He repeats.

               

“Are you pulling some Harry Potter shit mate?” Zayn goes, turning on his side and propping his head with his arm. “Did you put something in my water? Are you pranking me?”

               

“God Zayn no.” Harry groans then flicks the man on the forehead. “I’m not pranking you. My pranks are much better than this.”

               

“Yeah right.” He mocks, “Go on then. I can’t say I believe you. It sounds utter bullshit.”

               

The idea hits him like a ton of bricks. “Wait here.” He says and gets off the bed. He returns with his wand in hand which Zayn eyes with a derisive look. “ _Lumos_ ” He says and the tip of his wand lights up.

               

“Did you stick a light bulb to a piece of stick or something Haz?”

               

Harry groans. He wants to smack Zayn upside the head. He wishes he could do the Patronus charm, it’d be impressive. He could impress Zayn but as fate would have it, it’s a difficult charm to get the hang of, especially when you barely have very good happy memories. He concentrates on the phone in Zayn’s pocket and whispers _Accio Phone_ and immediately the object buzzes out of Zayn’s pocket, startling him into a gasp, and flies into Harry’s open hand. “Do you get it now?”

               

His brown eyes are as large as bowling balls, literally, and his mouth hangs open. “I don’t understand.” He finally says.

               

Tossing his phone to him, Harry flops back onto the bed and begins to explain with an audible sigh. “I am not exaggerating but the Harry Potter world exists. There’s a Wizarding world Zee. I’m a Muggle-born, so is my sister and we’re considered as Mudbloods.”

               

“That’s terrible.” Zayn interrupts.

               

Harry sighs with a nod. “You know the part where my parents died of heart attacks.” Right, there’s no need to become a sobbing mess right then so he hurries on, “They weren’t magic and so weren’t my Nan. Gems and I are the only ones after two generations. She went to Hogwarts, I didn’t.” Zayn looks like he’s on the verge of exploding. “Niall, Louis, Liam and Sophia are magical too.” Zayn gawks. “I pretended to be visiting Gemma when in reality I was going to see the Quidditch World Cup with her and her boyfriend. I met the boys there since they’re famous Quidditch players.”

               

“What?” Zayn squeaks, “Sorry, continue.”

               

“I’ve been learning spells and such lately and got my own wand too. Anyway the media has come to know of my blood status as also the fact that I’m Louis’ boyfriend and it’s given us hell for the past three weeks because everyone’s mocking me, and Louis’ parents don’t approve of me.”

               

“They sound like the Malfoys.” Zayn finally says after a long stretch of silence. Harry laughs. “Can I see your wand then?” Harry gives it to him. He knows Zayn is trying to process all of the information that has been dumped on him. He understands. It’s the same way he felt when he learnt about Niall.

               

“So you’re a wizard…”

               

“I am.”

               

“That’s so cool. I feel as if Gillen informing me that she wants to break up.”

               

“She didn’t really do that did she? It’s would be a horrible feeling.”

               

“I know right but nope.”

               

“Me being a wizard is alright with you then?” Harry asks just to confirm. Zayn is stroking the base of his wand, running the tip of his finger on the designs.

 

“You were a wizard this whole time and you’re telling me now.”

 

“Are you mad?” Harry winces.

 

“Nah, just shocked, “Zayn shakes his head but he turns the other way. “I quite like it though, makes me feel privileged. Would I ever get to see this Wizarding world?”

               

“Of course you can.” Harry chuckles, “But you can’t tell anyone. Not even Gillen. Muggles aren’t supposed to know.”

               

That makes Zayn groan. “Awww come on, now I’m a Muggle? Can I have a better title?”

               

He smiles and shrugs. “I wish you did but we’re connected in there somewhere. I’m not a pure blood and you’re a Muggle.”

               

“What about the others? They’re all pure blood?”

               

“Niall isn’t. He’s Muggle-born too.”

               

“Can you Disapparate? Can you do the Patronus Charm?”

               

“Neither.” Harry says, “Louis’ afraid to teach me the Disapparating Charm yet because I might splinch myself and the Patronus is generally a difficult charm.”             

               

“We can start using magic now.” Zayn’s eyes twinkle when he says it. “We don’t need to do the dishes and all and stuff. Oh I can’t wait. This is brilliant.”

               

It’s silent for some moments. Harry’s calm, hands crossed on his chest, Zayn examining the wand beside him. He thinks of giving Louis a visit. They have a favourite spot a little way off the main Wizarding London. It’s sort of like the moor near the Quidditch World Cup stadium but smaller and greener with lots of trees and fruit and a big view of the city.

               

“I’m sorry you know,” Zayn pulls Harry out of his thoughts. He gives back the wand. “I’m sorry that you have to deal with all that press and mockery. It’s like in the Muggle world when you’re told that being gay is a disgrace.”

               

“It feels worse there though.” Harry says, “I was just beginning to feel like I belong there. It’s alright.”

               

“It’s not alright Haz. Those bastards deserve a taste of their own medicine. I’m positive Lou and you will work through this and don’t you dare ever break up okay? Not over this shit thing.”

               

He grins. “Okay.”

               

“Now gimme a hug.” Says Zayn with open arms which Harry easily goes into. “What do you say we spend the day in bed with a couple of movies?”

               

“Sounds good to me.” Harry replies then gets off the bed to draw the curtains as Zayn goes to bring his laptop from his bedroom.

               

-

               

He Portkeys to their favourite spot, wearing a purple jumper that Louis had got him and brand new denims. The number of Portkeys he had used in the last two and half months probably amounts to more than ten, ever since he met Louis really. He finds the man seated, leaning against the trunk of a tree and zoned out, staring at the vast city before them. He cautiously walks up behind Louis and closes his eyes with his palms. It makes Louis jump in shock. “Guess who?” Harry whispers, a sly grin playing on his lips.

               

“Haz.” Louis groans fondly and brings up his hands to take off Harry’s. “Hey.”

               

“Hi.” Harry greets him back and sits beside him. He cups the man’s cheeks and presses a swift kiss on his lips and forehead, “Sort of missed you.”

               

“So did I.” Louis takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, resting them on his lap. He fiddles with Harry’s fingers, stroking each one and bending them at the knuckles but his eyes are far, distant, not even sparing Harry a glance. He knows something’s up and he always waits for Louis to calm down, to think and decide and then speak to him. So he rests his head on Louis’ shoulder and tries to be distant with him. He squeezes Louis’ hand just to reassure him that he’s here.

               

Louis doesn’t speak up this time. It almost frightens Harry when he continues to rub his hand and flitter in and out of worlds. “Lou?” He says softly. It jerks him back to reality and Harry places his free hand on Louis’ arm and cranes his neck to look up at him from where he’s resting his head. “Lou babe what’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

               

Louis sighs, a tired sound of carrying the world upon his shoulders. Harry nuzzles into his neck, breathing in the musky tang of vanilla and sandalwood. “It’s frustrating you know.”

               

“What is babe?” Harry softly presses.

 

“I’m twenty four and I don’t have my own flat,” He laughs with a hysterical edge to his voice, “I have to practically stay at Liam’s just to get away from my family and I’m sure I bother Sophia and him both and now I stay over at yours most of the time and I’m so sorry—“

 

“Hey, shhh.” Harry presses a finger on Louis’ lips, “I don’t mind you staying over at mine. I like having you with me.”

 

“I sort of thought about it like that but I wasn’t so sure.” Louis chuckles very lightly and turns his head to kiss Harry’s forehead.

               

“You can bring your entire luggage and even live at my place.” Harry suggests, “Zayn won’t mind a bit.”

               

“Thanks for the invitation.”

               

He goes silent again and Harry gives him the space he needs. It’s like trying to coax a turtle out of its shell. Louis’ still gripping onto Harry’s hand as if it is something precious, it’s probably helping to ground him. He can feel his own nervousness set in for Louis so he takes out his wand and starts changing the colour of the grass by his knees.

               

“How’s everything at home?” He finally asks.

               

“They’re mad at me.” He doesn’t have to ask who it is. “I hate how they treat you. You’re not different. You mean so much to me; I want you to know that. I would never ever leave you.”

               

“I know Lou.” He gives Louis a reassuring smile, “It’s okay. Perhaps they will be convinced later on in life.”     

               

“Why don’t you join us for lunch or maybe dinner?” Louis suggests, now looking at him with an intense stare. “They might get to see how wonderful of a person you are and how much you make me happy. They’ll change their mind.” Harry really doesn’t want to do it. He knows how purebloods who look down on other statuses can be cruel but a part of him thinks that Louis’ family might not be that bad. Louis is an amazing man and it’s bound to be traits from one of his parents. He’s a little bit afraid too, has never been in another magical household except Gemma’s but he wants Louis to be happy, he wants them to be together, to be away from the press, to be treated like an equal so he nods his head.

               

“Okay. I’d love to.” It brings out a giant grin from Louis. He rests his head back on Louis’ shoulder, placing a sloppy wet kiss on the soft skin of his neck. He lets a few moments pass before he says, “By the way I had to tell Zayn about me, and all of us.”

               

“How did he take it?” The change of the course of the conversation seems to have brought Louis out of his saddening thoughts. And this time around Harry can tell that he’s genuinely interested by the way he turns his entire body to sit crossed legged facing him, his entire focus on him.

               

Harry laughs, remembering Zayn’s shocked face. “He thought I was pranking him then I had to show him some spells.”

               

“I’ll bet he made Harry Potter references.”

               

“He did.” Harry agrees, “I promised to show him around Diagon Alley.”

               

“I could help if you like.” He offers.

               

“I would love that more than anything.”

               

“Okay, that’s good.” Louis pulls him forward so they’re crushed against each other. “How was your day?”

               

“Good, good.” Harry nods into Louis’ chest, “How have you been dealing with all the—you know—“

               

“I’m used to it.” Louis shrugs, “Being famous comes with a price. You deserve to be treated better though, and I’m so sorry about all this but there’s nothing I can do.”

               

“It’s inevitable.” Harry agrees, and noses along his jaw, “I hope I get used to it someday too.” He purses his lips for a kiss and Louis gives in. He pushes Harry to the ground and sidles up to him, pressing soft kisses along his neck and jaw line until they catch onto his lips.

               

“It’s Thursday today.” Louis pauses to say in between kisses, “My family has meals together today since literally everyday they’re away from home. It’s a thing they began doing to spend time together as a family.”

               

Harry obliges with a strained moan, eyes shut tight, and bucking his hips. Louis chuckles and gives in, resuming kissing him. He pulls down the collar of Harry’s shirt and continues kissing the line of his collarbones whilst very slowly grinding down on him. “You have no patience at all curly.”

               

“None,” Harry counters with a grunt, “Get on with it Lou.”

               

-

               

They leave at dusk, for supper. Harry wears his best pair of robes, the black ones with the pale red seams, and tucks his wand into the inner pocket of his robes. Louis waits for him in the hallway. When he comes out, he finds him chatting with Zayn who quirks his eyebrow at him and gives a thumbs up.

               

“You look pretty wizardy.” Zayn says for lack of proper words, “Have a good dinner mate. Of course I’ll be here having ramen noodles or something while you have something lavish.”

               

“Awwww Zaynie.” Harry coos and takes his face in his hands. He presses a big sloppy kiss onto his forehead which makes Zayn gag and wipe it off. “We’ll have a fancy lunch at Madam Pudifoot’s. I promise.”

               

Zayn laughs and pushes Harry towards the door. “Go on. Don’t let me keep you waiting. Have fun both of you.” Though they think he doesn’t notice, he does notice the pointed look Zayn gives Louis, and Louis returns it with raised hands and a timid nod.

               

“I swear to keep him safe Zayn.” Louis assures him, “You gonna hug me or not? Cuz you might never see me again.” That seems to confuse Zayn because he looks at Harry for some sort of explanation but Harry only cackles.

               

Hand in hand they’re standing outside the flat, on the bit of garden area. “You ready to Disapparate?” Louis asks.

               

“What?” Squeaks Harry because what? Did he hear correctly or did Louis actually state that they were going to Disapparate? Harry doesn’t even know how to do it yet.

               

“Side along Disapparation Haz.” Louis holds out an arm for him, “Don’t worry. I won’t kill you in the process.”

               

“Wait, does that mean there’s a possibility I could get killed?” He’s joking really but he’s having fun with it. He takes a hold of Louis’ hand, not sure exactly what they’re supposed to be doing. He didn’t read up on this.

               

Louis digs his wand out of his own black robes, and lets out a deep breath of air. “Hold on tight to my arm so you don’t accidently get left behind in another city or something.” Harry raises a brow but nods and wraps both his hands around Louis, shuffling closer to his body.

               

“Ready?” Louis repeats.

               

“Ready.”

               

The next second Harry feels like he’s been sucked into a tiny tube, being pulled and twisted as if he’s dough or something. It’s even worse than travelling by Portkey. He can feel his stomach turning like a hurricane. He’s being pressed, and stretched from all sides, his ears thrum with a great volume of sound like when one goes underwater, and his eyes feel like they bulge.

               

It’s like coming up to the surface once drowned when he finally lands. He has to bend, hands on his knees as he tries to regain his directions. He takes in lungfulls of air, gasping each time and tries to keep the sickness at bay.

               

“You alright Haz?” Louis asks with a hand on his shoulder. Harry shakes his head not trusting himself to speak right then. “It’ll go away in a couple of minutes.” Louis says afterwards but he keeps his hand securely upon Harry’s shoulder.

               

“Is this how Disapparating feels like?” Oh God! Fuck! His insides are going to spill out. He clasps his mouth shut, and breathes in and out deeply.

               

“Yup, everyone’s first time is quite similar.”

               

When he feels less like he’s going to faint, he raises his head a tiny bit to peek at where they are. They’re in front of a huge iron gate which guards a dark, towering house. It doesn’t look homely or welcoming at all. He wonders how Louis manages to live here. It’s like a dragon’s chambers or something, quite spooky.

               

Harry stands up straight after a few minutes once he’s sure he’s not going to be sick or suddenly fall flat on his back. Louis’ hands immediately come to settle on his waist, pulling him into his side. Harry’s ears still have a slight buzzing which is frankly starting to irritate him.

               

“So this is where I live.” Louis makes a sweeping motion with his left hand at the manor. “Looks like a haunted house from the outside at this time of night.”

               

Harry wants to laugh but it’s rude to do so and he knows better. He’s also slightly shaky on his feet, limbs still uncoordinated after the tube travelling. “Sort of. I think I need a glass of water.”

               

“Okay. Let’s go in then.” There’s no guard booth nearby or anyone to open the gates for that matter. They simply open by themselves when the two of them stand close. It’s right spooky now.

               

They walk along the cemented pathway of the garden until they’re at the doorstep. Louis takes hold of the giant knocker and knocks it three times, the sound echoing in the garden. Harry watches with a gasp as the door swings open by itself, revealing a dimly lit hallway.

 

“This way.” Louis pulls Harry along with him, their fingers interlacing as their footsteps echo inside the house. He can hear the door shut behind them.

               

“How do you live here?” Harry whispers. The manor looks magnificent, the deeper they enter the house. There’s chandeliers hanging everywhere from the ceilings, wall lamps decorating with flames of orange. Rich, red velvet covered sofas are placed in perfect arrangement in the hall and lounge, trinkets hanging on the walls and all sorts of desks and cabinets leaning against the walls. There are foot long portraits decorating the walls, people in them moving about and watching the two men intently. There’s a hearth burning even though there seems to be no one around.

               

“My room’s better looking than this.” Louis promises, “That’s where I spend most of my time and it’s fucking huge so it won’t bore me.” He doesn’t even whisper which makes his voice bounce against everything solid, making Harry’s skin hairs stick upwards.

               

There’s a sound of a _bang_ and a _clatter_ and Harry turns in the direction of the sound abruptly. “It’s just the house elves.” Louis says.

               

“You have house elves here?” They walk up the staircase, the middle portion of it covered in fir green carpet.

               

“How else do you think the house stays as polished as it is, and the meals that we are provided with?”

               

“Thought your mum cooked or something.” Harry shrugs, “I also thought your Manor wasn’t this big.” Before Louis can cut in he continues, “Mind you, no one’s ever seen nor taken a photo of what the Tomlinson Manor looks like.”

              

“That’s true.”

               

“I want to see the house elves too—after.”

               

They walk up at least fifty steps and past eight doors before they come face to face with a door painted in brown red. “We can do that.” Louis takes out his wand and whispers _Alohomora_ before pushing the door open and letting the two of them step in. True to his word, the room is huge and it’s much cozier than the parts of the house Harry had seen.

               

The Turkish green wallpapers are adorned with posters of Quidditch matches and players, even articles from various newspapers that are related to the Quidditch matches. A thirty by forty inch family portrait of the Tomlinsons hang opposite Louis’ four poster bed, the thick red curtains are tied to the bed posts. The only window in the room is a bay window with a window seat but the curtains are not yet drawn, showing the darkened sky outside and bits of stars that are scattered. A dresser is pushed against the wall beside an ornate mirror to the right of the bed. There’s even a hearth in the room but much smaller than the one Harry had seen in the hall, and the plush looking sofa looks comfy enough to snuggle onto with a couple of blankets during winter.

               

Louis flops on his back onto the bed with a relieved exhale of air but Harry walks towards the portrait. He can immediately recognize Louis in it, the styled hair, striking blue eyes and radiant smile. He is standing behind his mother who is seated right next to her husband. It was probably taken last year since the babies each of his parents are holding look not past a year. Louis’ sisters are standing on each side of their parents, and the family is wearing big grins. They look like a real family, happy and content. Harry wishes he had that.

               

Louis joins him, pressing against his side. “That’s my mum, Jay.” He says pointing to the dark haired woman who looks weary despite her smile and is also trying to keep a strong hold of the jiggling baby on her lap. “And that’s my stepfather, Dan.” The man is handsome. Harry can’t imagine how people like them could possibly hate Muggle-borns. “That’s Charlotte. The blonde one there.” He points to the short girl beside Louis in the photo who’s trying hard to contain her laughter. He chuckles and continues to show his other sister, “Felicite and on each side of my parents are my twin sisters Daisy and Phoebe, and the babies are my twin brother Ernest and sister Doris.”

               

“It’s quite a family you have.” Harry smiles, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

               

“You’ll love my sisters.” Louis pats his arm. “Do you want to head to the kitchens? I’m sure you’re dying to meet the elves.”         

               

Harry nods eagerly, following Louis to the door. “How many are there?”

              

“Five.” Louis brings his hand up to show five fingers.

              

As breath taking as the various parts of the house Harry had seen, the kitchens somehow blow him away. His love for cooking gives him a great delight in the variety of rich kitchens but this one looks so medieval. There are large fireplaces where large pots are hung over fires, and at least two great big tables to accommodate food platters or act as food preparation areas. There’s pots and pans everywhere, not a single modern oven to be seen. It’s impressive. Harry also notices the two short and skinny elves bustling about, one is stirring something in one of the large pots and the other is moving to and fro from one of the tables with ingredients, and food, and such.

               

“Master Tomlinson.” One of the house elves greets Louis, bowing when he notices him. Louis shuffles uncomfortably but nods anyway in greeting. The other elf by the pot, hearing them, turns to look, his floppy ears twitch and he smiles. “Hello Louis, Sir.”

               

“Hello to both of you.” Louis gives a short wave, “Haz that’s Agas.” The elf gives Harry a wave and Harry waves back. He loves house elves. They’re adorable. “And that’s Canto.” The elf by the pot leaves his position and approaches the two of them.

               

“Who might Sir be?” He asks Harry politely.

               

“This is Harry.” Louis introduces him and Harry holds out a hand for him to shake, which the elf does, his hands looking grubby but Harry doesn’t mind a bit. “He’s my boyfriend Canto.” The elf beams and nods.

               

“Where are the others?” Louis asks as he fills a glass of water for Harry from a nearby table.

               

“Cleaning the house Sir, expecting everyone for dinner.” Canto then turns to face Harry, “Will Sir Harry be here for supper?”

               

“Yes.” Harry smiles, “I cannot wait to taste what you have been preparing.”

              

“Fair enough Sir. I hope Sir Harry enjoys the time here.”

               

“Thank you Canto.” The elf bows again before he leaves and Harry leans in to whisper, “Why are they wearing worn rags? They’re not mistreated are they?”

               

Louis pulls him out to the hallway and leads him up the staircase again. Harry gets the feeling he’s never stayed out here for long. It does feel odd, a big empty house.

               

“They feel insulted. They actually just prefer the slavery which I don’t understand why but we treat them with kindness which is all they ever really want. Dan’s the only one who can’t bother with it all but he stays out of the way which is a good thing. But the elves also have good sleeping quarters and have fresh meals for themselves where they eat together in the kitchens. And no matter how many times I ask them to stop calling me Master or Sir they never listen.”

               

“Well, it’s good to hear no one’s mistreating them.” He lays on the soft bed beside Louis, feeling the mattress whoosh beneath him, “My sister’s neighbour has a house elf, and he loves clothes so I knit him some whenever I can.”

               

“They’re all different.” Louis explains. Harry throws an arm over Louis’ belly and nuzzles into his neck, wanting to strangle him because he misses his lips already.

               

-

               

It’s a nightmare, that’s what it is.

               

The moment dinner is ready; the two of them make their way downstairs ten minutes after they’re sure the family is at the table. Louis’ siblings are happily chatting at the table and when they see the two of them, they give them smiles but they also have a curious look upon seeing Harry. They greet Louis with ecstatic greetings and even reach out to Harry. Louis’ parents don’t take their arrival well or at least his step father doesn’t.

               

“Hi mum, Dan.” Louis greets them, the closer they reach the table. Dan, Louis’ stepfather seems to realize something from the way his jaw sets tight and eyes narrow. The chair screeches as Dan brusquely stands up, startling everyone at the table. His lip curls in disgust and Harry shrinks, taking Louis’ hand in his for safety. Louis has caught onto it too. Harry can feel his hand clenching.

               

Dan leaves the room immediately with the sweep of his cloak to mark his exit. It hurts them both, especially Harry because the disgust he had seen on the man’s face hit a place in his heart similar to when he read the Daily Prophet about himself. Louis stands stock still, keeping a firm hold on Harry. Jay looks at them as if she wants to apologize, wants to try to see the good but even before she can say anything, there’s a loud roar.

               

“Don’t you dare!” Dan shouts that it makes the chandeliers tremble and the little girls to yelp in horror.

               

Jay gets up too, much softer than how Dan had. She has a pained expression on her face when she looks back at them as she leaves the room and it’s bound to hurt Louis. Harry knows that. Louis’ mother just walked out on him when he had been so excited earlier to introduce Harry to them. But the thing is Harry feels so upset about himself. It’s because of him; they had treated Louis so cruelly. It’s because of him. Him and his fucking stupid blood status! He wishes he hadn’t been a wizard, he wishes he knew none of this but the hand in his shake so much that it makes him think about what his life would be without Louis.

               

Louis pulls him away from the table. “Come on.” He says, jogging up the stairs, dragging Harry along with him.

               

“Lou?” He’s confused. Louis is in a hurry and there’s anger visible in his eyes but then it all makes sense when Louis starts rummaging in his wardrobe and begins stuffing various articles of clothing into a rucksack. “You’re leaving?”

               

“I’ve had enough.” Louis spits. “We’re both getting out of here. I’ll get the rest of my belongings later.” Harry moves to help Louis. He’s never seen him like this which makes him afraid of stepping past a red line that could possibly exist. “All they ever care about is ambition and pride and fucking family status and blood status. They can’t be happy for one moment, not even try to understand. Ever since I became Quidditch captain, that’s all they ever talked of, being in the papers and all that and it made me so fucking sick of the game itself. This is the last straw.”

               

So he helps the man without a word. He understands and for a moment he feels proud of Louis for standing up for himself.

               

They leave the house the same way they entered the damn dank thing. Clutching onto Harry’s hand, Louis waves his wand and they Disapparate, again.

               

In between the time it takes for Harry to recover from the travel, Louis has calmed down a notch. They’re standing in Hogsmeade, the last place Harry expected to be at. The entire place is dark except for the lights from the houses and shops. “What are we doing here?” Harry asks, shivering from the cold that brushes his fingers.

               

Louis takes both of Harry’s hands and rubs them in his, trying to keep them warm. Then he takes out his Gryffindor scarf from the bag and wraps it around Harry’s neck. “Thought we could have something to eat here and sleep at your flat.”

               

“Sounds good.” Harry leans in to catch Louis’ lips in his. It calms them both. “Madam Pudifoot’s then?”

               

“Yeah.”

               

Madam Pudifoot’s is a long way but they need the walk, to think, to feel okay again so they don’t mind.

               

“I’m sorry about them.” Louis says after a while, swinging their hands in between them, “I’m so sorry that you have to get hurt all the time like this. I just…I don’t even know what to say besides _sorry_.”

               

Harry hums because truly, this Mudblood thing is starting to become too much of a hassle. It’s hurting the two of them in so many ways. He wonders if he wants to even continue this, it feels much more serene in the Muggle world, without all the shit. He decides to bear it like a man because being a Muggle-born isn’t a bad thing, in fact it’s an honour in his family which is what matters after all. He doesn’t want to ruin the night even further. “It’s okay Louis. There are times in our lives when we have to deal with certain things and those things are inevitable no matter how much you run from them, they catch up to it. I’m sure all of this will die down eventually. The papers seem to be reducing the amount of articles about you and I.”

               

Louis agrees with a quick kiss to the back of Harry’s hand, on his knuckles, which is kept warm by Louis’ own. That’s when they hear the whistling and cackles of laughter, when they have to take an alley to take the path to the right so they can approach the restaurant quicker. Harry makes to whirl around but Louis jerks him back with a hand. “Don’t.” He mumbles under his breath.

               

The whistling doesn’t stop; neither does the mutterings that are getting loud. “Mudblood.” One of them sneers which makes the scoundrels hoot in laughter. Harry feels his stomach lurch, he can feel Louis going rigid.

               

“What did you say?” Louis grits out, turning on the spot. He pulls his clenched fist out of Harry’s grip and advances on the cackling men.

               

“Mudblood.” The man says louder. It sends them into another fit of laughter.

               

“Say that again you puny bastard!” Louis shouts. Harry’s terrified, unable to move yet there’s the hauntingly hollow feeling gripping his heart.

               

The men laugh again. Another man steps forward and sneers, his lips twitching, “You fucking a Mudblood boy? How’s it feel? Does he scream? Does he beg for it.?” Harry gulps and his eyes start glossing over.

               

What he does not expect is the snapping of bone as Louis lands a punch onto the man’s face. He watches the man fall over with a grunt, holding his face and the rest of the group backs away a little. Seconds later they seem to realize that there’s so many of them against Louis so they start to surround him. Louis whips out his wand but they beat him to it.

               

“ _Impedimenta_!” One of them shouts and Louis fall over onto the cobbled pavement, making a painful sound. Harry has to force himself to move so he can get to Louis.

               

Just as Harry crouches, Louis points his wand at the man and shouts, “ _Immobulus!_ ” Harry watches with wide eyes as the man freezes and falls flat on his back. He’s feeling anger, so much anger and hurt that he could hurtle a fucking stone at the bastards.

               

It builds up into a fight, tripping each other, injuring each other, dodging spells until one of them gives Louis a busted lip and a cut on his arm. Harry’s fire gets the best of him and whipping out his own wand he disarms all of them, before shouting out an angry “ _Incendio_ ” at them. He pulls Louis onto his feet and starts backing away, still pointing his wand at the men who have begun to cower without their weapons.

               

When they’re a safe distance away from the men, Harry drops all of the wands onto the ground, each clattering onto the pavement and aids Louis towards the restaurant that is now in view. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up.” Harry says. Louis makes a disgruntled sound only to have Harry shush him and kiss his cheek. He takes Louis’ arm to inspect, carefully pulling up the sleeves that are soaked in blood to reveal deep cuts that is quite sickeningly gushing blood like a narrow river for now. Harry knows it’s going to be worse and there’s no time to get settled inside the restaurant bathroom to clean it up.       

               

“ _Tergeo._ ” He says, pointing his wand at Louis’ cuts. The blood gets cleaned up but just as soon as it’s cleaned, the deep cuts release another bout of it. Harry wants to vomit as Louis lets out another disgruntled sound of pain.

               

They’re disrupted when there’s a sudden gust of air beside them. It’s Canto, holding a blue bag in his hands. “Sir Louis!” He gasps upon seeing Louis’ arm. He brings a hand to his mouth in alarm. They’re both obviously surprised by Canto’s appearance but right now Harry’s more terrified of Louis’ wounds not healing. His wand is trembling from how scared he really is. “Oh Sir Louis.” Canto nearly cries, “Sir Louis needs to see a Mediwizard or a Healer Sir.”

              

“W-why?” Harry stutters because Canto’s worry is doing nothing to help him out.

               

“Why? What’s wrong Canto?” Louis asks, more worded and stable although he’s in great pain.

               

“Sir that’s _Sectumsempra_.” Canto whispers which makes Louis gasp. Harry has no idea what’s going on.

               

“That fucker!” Louis growls, “It’s a good thing he didn’t cut off my bloody arm.”

               

 _Cut off my bloody arm?!!_ Harry wants to scream.

               

Louis stumbles, Harry immediately stabilizing him with an arm to the waist. “I—thank you Canto. I think we might know someone who might be able to help.”

               

“In that case Sir, Canto has brought supper for two.”

               

“Thank you Canto.” Harry takes the offered bag and looks to Louis. “What’s going on Lou?”

               

“We need to get to Gemma’s.”Louis explains, “This spell has a counter curse which I don’t know but Gemma might.”

               

“Oh God.” He tries to breathe properly, both of them being anxious isn’t going to help either of them. “It’s a long way Lou; you could die on the way. I can’t Disapparate Lou.”

               

“I can Sir.” Canto interrupts them, “Let me help Sir.”

               

“I—“ Harry’s speechless but he nods all the same. He grips onto Louis’ waist with all the strength he can muster as Canto takes a hold of Harry’s arm, and they Disapparate. It’s the same feeling, the same nausea. He’s Disapparated three times for the day and it’s only been his first ever experience with the damn incantation.

              

He doesn’t wait to get his bearings right or anything of the sort as soon as they’re standing outside Gemma’s cottage. Louis is swaying in his arms from the lack of blood. Canto bids them goodbye and leaves as Harry rushes to knock frantically on the front door.

               

The door swings open after Harry nearly bangs on the damn thing. Gemma seems to have been sleeping from the indications of her frizzy hair and heavy eyelids. “What—?” Her eyes grow wide as soon as she sees Harry’s blood stained hands. “Get inside!”

               

Harry lays Louis lengthwise on the sofa and pulls off his robes very carefully. “Gems!” He calls, “You need to do the counter curse for _Sectumsempra._ ” The simple mention of the curse has Gemma gasping but without question she bustles about the house in search of something.

               

“Found it!” She shouts, hurrying over to them with an open book, a small brown bottle and her wand. They can hear rustling from upstairs which Harry assumes to be Finnigan waking up from all the commotion. Harry moves to give Gemma some space so she can kneel down. She begins to trace her wand over the wounds, muttering “ _Vulnera Sanentur_ ” like a song, slow and repeatedly.

               

Harry watches from where he’s kneeling, holding onto Louis’ hand, as the blood flow starts to slow until the tan skin is completely clean, revealing the slashes and red skin beneath. It slowly starts to heal, the skin knitting together as Gemma continues to sing the incantation.

               

When she’s finally done and Louis’ breathing is a little better, Gemma unscrews the lid of the small bottle and pours three drops of the potion on the cuts. Green smoke billows as soon as the liquid touches Louis’ skin and once the smoke clears, Harry’s completely amazed to see barely a scar on Louis’ arm and the flesh looks a few days old in itself. Somewhere in his head, he’s uttering _I love magic._

               

Feeling relieved, and the exhaustion of worry finally settling in, he slumps back on his hind and lays his head on the spare bit of sofa, where both his and Louis’ hands are wrapped together. “There’s dinner in the blue bag.” Harry drawls sleepily. Gemma nods and finally gets up to clean herself.

               

He makes sure Louis is well enough to be sitting upright so they can have dinner together, also using the time to explain what happened to both Gemma and Finnigan – who’s now awake and preparing tea for the four of them-.

               

They’re too tired to Disapparate back to Harry’s flat so Gemma offers them the guest bedroom before leaving them to it and heading to bed with Finn. Harry helps Louis get cleaned up in the bathroom, has a shower himself, and flops into bed beside a sluggish Louis. “Thank you for taking care of me.” The blue eyed man whispers, curling into Harry. Louis captures his lips in a warm kiss, conveying everything he feels in that moment to Harry. His mouth tastes of mint from the toothpaste. Harry pulls him closer, moving his hand to cup at the back of Louis’ neck, careful not to jostle his bandaged arm.

               

“I’ll always take care of you.” Harry whispers back into his mouth. From how slow Louis kisses him, he knows he’s tired so he pulls back. He kisses Louis’ nose and pecks at his lips. “Sleep now.”

               

“Hmmm.” Louis hums as he gradually drifts into another world. Harry is the one cuddling him for once which makes him feel better. Louis simply fits into his arms like a rhyme in a poem. He looks so small and fragile curled up when he’s asleep, eyelashes sweeping the bow of his cheeks that Harry could keep staring at him. But he closes his eyes and wills for sleep to come. He’s just too tired to stay awake anymore yet he doesn’t fall asleep like he usually does as soon as his head hits the pillow.

               

He twists and turns, trying his best not to jolt the sleeping man in his arms. It’s like a crick in his neck that he can’t get rid of when he tries his hardest to fall asleep but is unable to. It’s frustrating and starting to get on his nerves because he’s really fucking tired. Knowing full well that another half hour of squirming around is going to get him sweating and pissed off, Harry carefully extracts himself from the bundle that’s Louis. He throws his legs off the bed, pulls on one of Louis’ jumpers he finds in the rucksack and pads down the stairs as noiselessly as he can.

               

Warm air from the house is immediately diminished once he opens the backyard door with his wand in hand, he’s gotten used to carrying it around with him. It’s relatively cool outside, the plants and vines swaying from the breeze that blows past every now and then. He sits down on the steps, pulling his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It’s not that he wants to think because he has nothing to think about really, just that there’s pain from the day’s events and the normal criticism about him, instead he revels in the feel of the greenery, the air of the night. They feel composed, silent, not like the inside of his head.

               

Louis is the only solid thing in his life apart from Gemma. And to be frank, he doesn’t think he could deal with losing him. Louis is going to miss his family sooner or later and they’re going to eventually convince him to leave Harry, to be a better man. Maybe Harry really isn’t worth it after all. He can just imagine it, Louis asking to talk to him one day and breaking the news, and Harry watching him leave without a backward glance.

               

The past month in itself has been a downright disappointment, from him finally feeling like he fit in the puzzle, fit in this world only to have all of that torn away from him. It’s like giving a child a piece of sweet only for him to drop it in a couple of seconds. He could cry like that kid but he won’t.

               

Sighing, he rests his head on the door frame and exhales, his breath turning into mist. He rolls the wand in his hand, clenching and unclenching it in his hold. He moves his wand in a circular motion, and tries to concentrate with all his valour on a happy memory. Harry shifts through the contents of his mind for one that is his most joyful memory.

               

He thinks of the time when Gemma received her Hogwarts letter and he was on his toes from excitement. He focuses on it so much that he nearly has a headache but it doesn’t work. Taking a deep breath, he tries again, this time of Gemma coming home from Hogwarts for the first time loaded with goods. It doesn’t work either. Harry tries again and again, his birthdays, his first boyfriend, first prom, spending time with his Nan and going through the photo album, the first time Gemma shows him spells, going to the Wizarding world for the first time. But with each try he begins to grow restless because none of them work, there’s not even a sparse white light, not even a dot.

               

“Can’t sleep baby brother?” He whips around so fast that he would have snapped his neck by the force of it. Gemma takes a seat next to him, flashing him a soft smile. She looks sleepy too and he feels guilty that it’s because of him she has chosen to come out here.

               

He shakes his head, looking away from her. “No I—just—why are you awake?”

               

She leans with her back against the door frame, her toes nearly touching Harry’s thigh. “Can’t let my baby brother wallow by himself now can I? Besides going back to sleep after being woken up is not that easy.”

               

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

               

“It’s alright H.” Gemma places a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Troubled times do arise and we’re family.”

               

“I guess so.” He mumbles, hoping she doesn’t hear it but she’s Gemma so of course she does.

               

She prods him with her toe which makes his lips quirk just a tiny bit. “What’s wrong H?”

         

He could slip out of it and continue to mourn really but he feels the overwhelming urge to confide in someone because the feeling of knowing that Louis is not happy; that he himself is feeling like he’s been stripped bare; that there’s a voice in his head saying that Louis is bound to see through the fog one of these days is haunting. Harry saw the fear, the sadness in Louis’ eyes and he can still see it.

         

It crawls along his skin, the fact that he’s simply going to say it and he has come to care for the man deeply. It’s not a bad thing he supposes but when it all comes down to it, Harry knows very well that he is one who cannot handle terrible situations. He doesn’t expect anything from her when he says it all.

         

“You’re afraid.” She concludes as if it isn’t obvious already. “Haz although we never had a perfect family, it doesn’t mean you’re not a part of this household. You’re my brother and you are my priority. I would be up for it if you simply just decided to pack your bags and move in here, Finnigan wouldn’t mind either. But the future—“ Gemma inches forward, touching his arm so he looks at her, “The future is not for us to predict, not for us to worry because this—“ She makes a hand motion around them, at the sky, “this Universe, this world, the stars out there, the higher thing that exists, it’s fate, it’s destiny.”

         

Harry grips the wand in his hand, tightly, feeling like his eyes are going to flood with tears. “And we can’t change anything, we can’t know what’s going to occur but we can hope for the better. We can try to make situations better, and you love Louis, and wouldn’t let go of him for the world then you know there’s nothing to worry about. It’s Louis’ choice, whatever decision he makes. So have trust in him, have faith, believe in him.”

         

He splutters when he realizes what Gemma had implied. “I didn’t say I lo—“

         

Gemma smiles and shakes her head. “Give it a break Haz. I can see it you know. I’m soon to be engaged.”

         

“But that doesn’t mean—“

         

“It means a whole lot. Shut up.”

         

“Is this how you and Finn figure things out?”

         

“Finn and I have been through trying times and we figure a lot of things out and I have faith in him, in the decisions he makes related to our relationship. Both of our choices affect our relationship in some way. So we try our best. It’s time for you too. You’ve grown up now brother and this thing between you and Louis seems like a long lasting thing to me.”

         

“Gems—“ Harry groans.

         

“Come on now.” She gets up, a smirk playing upon her lips, “Let’s have some tea and then off to bed.”

               

Begrudgingly he gets off the porch, locking the door behind them and follows Gemma into the kitchen. He sits at the round table where she busies herself with filling the kettle with water and hanging it on the hob. And when he finally does get back in bed, warm tea in his belly, a sleep addled Louis snuggles closer, mumbling incoherent words and nuzzles his nose against Harry’s bare chest. He sort of feels whole when he falls asleep.

               

-

               

They leave the very next morning after a breakfast of boiled vegetables, bacon and pumpkin juice. Zayn opens the door for them since Harry had forgotten his key, and the man simply greets them and is about to resume what he was doing when Harry decides to break it to him.

               

“Lou’s staying with us Zee.”

               

Zayn frowns, turning around to look at the pair of them. “It’s not news to me Haz. You both are basically over each other.”

               

“No, no.” Harry hastens to say, not moving away from Louis who’s staring at floor like he wants it to swallow him up. “Staying as in, he’ll be living with us until he wants to leave.” He looks to Louis to make sure he had worded it accurately enough but the man gives no sign whatsoever.

               

“Oh.” Says Zayn in realization, “That’s fine. I don’t mind. What happened anyway?” He moves to usher them into the household, finally catching onto the fact that Louis isn’t himself.

               

Louis beats him to it before Harry can. “Just needed to get away from my family. I think it’s time I start living my life instead of theirs.” Sometimes Harry can’t help the overpowering feeling of pride he feels for Louis. “I don’t mean to be a bother—“

               

“Hey, none of that now.” Zayn cuts in, placing a cautious hand on Louis’ shoulder. Harry watches from where he’s seated on the sofa beside him. “If you were, I would have said so ages ago but I really don’t mind. You can stay here as long as you wish.” He straightens up then, addressing the both of them, “Have you eaten? Do you guys need anything for breakfast before I head off for work?” Work reminds him that Harry has a set of photos to grab from the printing shop and drop off; also that he has a meeting in two hours.

               

“We had breakfast.” Harry replies, “A cup of tea would be nice though. Lou?”

               

“Yeah, I’d like a cup.” Louis nods when Harry looks to him. Zayn obliges, heading towards the kitchen. “You’ve got work too Haz?”

               

“Yup.” Harry gets to his feet, pulling Louis up too and shouldering his rucksack, “Let’s get you situated first and have a game of footie.” He has roughly two hours and half which is more than enough time, and he wants to take Louis’ mind of things for awhile.

               

-

         

“Are you okay?” Heaves Harry when they’re lying on the dry grass in the park, coming down from all the adrenaline after playing football. They’re laying adjacent to each other, arms resting on their bellies.

         

Louis shakes his head, not taking his eyes off the kids playing on the merry-go-round. The sun’s too bright for his eyes so Harry has them closed, breathing in the earthy smell of the ground and trying to cool down. “I don’t know. I really just have no idea at all.”

         

“What are you feeling right now?”

         

“Anger, I guess.” He lifts and drops one shoulder, “And sadness…” Louis pauses, “Yeah, maybe a lot upset.” Harry swallows thickly but then Louis turns on his side, propping his head with an arm and flashes a smile, “And a little bit crazier for you.” Laughter bubbles out of Harry who rolls to his side too.

         

“You’re quite silly you know.” He says, fondness leaking out of his voice.

         

“I know.” Louis brings a hand to thumb at Harry’s chin, “Only for you though.”

         

Harry moves closer, smiling like an idiot as their lips collide, craving for the other. It gets heated as they always do, but more specifically one that’s trying to pour each other’s feelings into it, feelings of insecurity and hurt and love. They share so much more through their actions than their words, at least Louis does. He’d pat Harry’s knee or fiddle with his fingers or hold onto his hand suddenly without any cause for it. And Harry understands. Zayn says it’s because they’re connected in some form even though Harry refuses to believe such nonsense exists and that’s only because he’s never experienced it before.

         

“Come on, let’s get going.” Harry pulls away, giving him one last peck. He stands up, helping Louis to his feet too before helping him dust off any dirt on his clothes.

         

They walk back to the flat, swinging their linked hands between them while reminiscing funny childhood stories. They have a shower together for the first time in the one and half months they’ve been together. Louis has to help him get rid of the shampoo he’d gotten in his eyes which afterwards ensues into a water fight where Louis keeps randomly spraying him with the shower head.

         

“Make yourself at home.” Says Harry as he slips his arms through the sleeve of a shirt scattered with pink flamingos. Louis had laughed at the sight of it. “Not that it’s something I need to say but yeah have fun and eat whatever you want but stay away from anything that has to do with Zayn and his personal belongings.”

         

“Alright, will do.” Louis laughs, cupping Harry’s face to give him a kiss, “I won’t burn down the house, I promise.”

         

“Well if you do, I’ll know it’s you.” Harry grins. He picks up his camera sitting on the table, checks his pockets for everything he needs. It’s nice of Zayn for having left the car for Harry but really, Zayn doesn’t need to travel far for work, the firm Harry works for is a shit long distance. His legs would fall off if he walked instead.

               

It’s when he’s on the road that he begins thinking again, not purposely of course. He bites his nails as he waits in traffic, tapping his foot uneasily to the beat of his thoughts. Gemma’s words come to his mind yet the negativity is stronger, it pushes at his chest and carves at his brain, picking out Gemma’s reassuring words and flinging them into the void. It wedges itself into every part of Harry, taking residence in the very nerves of his body. It’s frustrating, irritating, and could very likely distract him from driving.

 

He’s simply just scared. Scared of what Louis might do, what choices he might make. He wasn’t even this scared when the headlines were spitting at him, he was only upset and probably a little insecure but now those headlines seem much clearer to him. They are what caused this inflammation in his soul, jammed his life between the road and the tyre. And who on Earth would be even interested in what sort of person Louis is dating? It’s obviously a student or a teacher in Hogwarts because they’re bound to know Gemma’s status, anything to do with Gemma probably but like why? Why want to be this evil unless they’re a jealous Quidditch fan or something? He’d like to strangle whoever it is; he could march into Hogwarts and just _bloody hell!!_ He’s too good of a person though.

         

Hitting on the accelerator, he feels in his coat pocket for his wand, sitting snug and warm. A calming spell would be advantageous right about now. He picks up the envelope full of photos he’d taken of old buildings and random couples, then drives to the firm where he sits in a room full of employees. It’s incredibly boring listening to the same speech they make every month for the sake of reminding employees of their duties and new improvisations. But he keeps himself distracted from the tormenting thoughts throughout the day, studies people’s features and listens in on conversations so he won’t have to hear the whispers of _Stop lying to yourself. What a coward._

         

Once he receives his salary for the month, drops the photos at the head office and bids goodbye to the receptionist, Harry decides to buy some red velvet cake for the three of them as a treat. He could really do with a good afternoon.

         

The smell of freshly baked bread, cakes and pastries twirls his senses. It reminds him of when he makes cookies and buns which he hasn’t done lately, now that he realizes it. Which wow…he really should get his life back on track and stop moaning and groaning about the things that he cannot handle. He also makes a mental note to get those ginger newt recipes now that Zayn is very clearly aware of the Wizarding world and wouldn’t mind Wizarding foods in the least bit.

         

He carefully selects four pieces of velvet cake; one extra just in case Niall comes around, pays for all it and walks back to his car. Crossing the road and sipping on his Frappuccino with the bag of cakes in his hand, he doesn’t see the oncoming force until it knocks him right over. Thankfully he only stumbles and spills a bit of the drink on his wrist but the cakes tumble out of the plastic bag that’s now lying on the dirty cement pavement. Harry hardly hears the man apologizing who pats his hand and leaves. He only stares in shock at the now dirt ridden cakes he had bought out of love.

         

And then…

         

It all comes crashing down on him at that moment. Like a tide of waves, a hurricane without mercy. He almost falls to his knees in the middle of the road from the sheer force of it. He wants to beg forgiveness for whatever wrongs he had committed in his life or past life. His vocal cords vibrate with the urge to scream, to bawl but there’s strangers passing by, giving him odd looks as he continues to stare at the slices of cake.

         

The red seeps onto the pavement like paint, coating everything in its way like lava and it’s reaching—reaching towards him like a vicious wolf with its teeth bared. In a matter of seconds it morphs into letters, then words—sentences as he continues to stare in horror, trying to make sense what the words could be. Its…it’s his thoughts! His thoughts…flowing in liquid form, mocking him, taunting him with their sharp words. And just like that, they twist and merge and become a snake. It slithers towards him, hissing and flicking its tongue but somehow he can’t seem to move his legs. He’s shaking with fear and yet his body doesn’t seem to get the message, doesn’t let him move. There’s goosebumps littering his skin.

         

Just as quickly as they appeared, they disappear. He now stares at the ground in shock, there’s no bloody looking red paint, no snake, no words but his fear—it’s still coursing through his veins like murder. He swallows, the sound of it startling to his own ears.

         

For however long he’s been standing there, it’s making him feel a little bit stupid so he hurries to back away and get inside the comfort of his car. Once he does, he turns up the air conditioner and backs the fuck up out of the parking space. It’s like his blood is boiling, on the verge of bursting a vessel and spurting like Louis’ arm had from the severe cuts. He needs to get somewhere to let go, somewhere before he actually does have an accident on the road.

         

He doesn’t drive towards the flat, in fact away from it, as far as he can get away from the flat. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Louis, not that he wants to stay away from him either. But the thought of going back there and being reminded of everything that’s obviously going to fuck him all up is too depressing and he’s not feeling good at all right now. So he does the only thing he thinks he can do.

         

He drives away.

         

Thirty minutes and he’s out of London—just like that. He keeps going through, foot on the accelerator, teeth gritting in concentration so as not to stray away from the view of the road.

         

Halfway through his endless journey where he still feels like he could burst open, his phone starts lightning up from the insane amounts of texts and phone calls he’s receiving. It’s all from Zayn, and a few from Niall. Louis of course has no phone – wizard stuff – but Harry’s sure Louis’ got Zayn texting on behalf of him. He switches it off with the press of a single button, finally able to relax even though he’s still tense, rigid as a tree trunk.

         

In the haze of worry, confusion and fear, he doesn’t bother to nor care to see anything around him. All that he’s determined to do is just get to the location. It had taken him some time to think about where he needed to go, instead of driving around aimlessly and having to pay for unnecessary gas which he could use the money to buy baking supplies with instead.

         

Three hours later and—

         

He’s in Barnton.

         

He hasn’t been to Barnton in about three months, tops. Being back at his hometown brings back countless memories of his childhood. It makes him nauseous in a positive way. Harry sits in the car for a few minutes once he’s parked outside the house. They had never been able to afford a car, therefore the lack of a garage. The neighbourhood is as silent as it has always been. Nothing’s changed in three months; the only difference is that some of the once empty houses are now occupied.

         

Getting past the rusted black gates, Harry steps foot on the lawn. It’s overgrown, weeds sprouting from every corner but the house stands strong as ever. It’s a two story building, red bricked walls and dirt stained casement windows, reseda green roof tiles and a chimney. He needs to come back another time and clean the place up.

         

Using the key he keeps in a compartment in his wallet, Harry gets inside the house. Light dust clouds his view the instant he pushes the creaky door open. The furniture is covered in a thin layer of dust too, perhaps like the inside of his very brain. The house feels as hollow as a log, and so fucking silent, it feels like being inside a tomb. Maybe three months has made everything feel all strange and untouched.

         

He sees himself at eight, running around the house with a broomstick gripped between his thighs, Gemma’s on a broom of her own, with a ball under her arm. Their Nan chuckling from where’s she’s seated on her rocking chair, knitting. Now all he sees is an empty rocker chair, sitting solemnly without a squeak beside the fireplace with the nautical over mantel. He misses the days when this house had been rambunctious and full of laughter, when it had been a family full of gracious love.

         

Shutting the oak door behind him, Harry peers into every room in the house, spending a few minutes, recalling the memories they hold. The rooms are draughty from the lack of habitance, cobwebs cling to the corners of floral wallpapered walls, flapping as the spiders scurry around. His bedroom still has posters of singers and photographs he had taken during his University days. Coloured note reminders litter the wardrobe door, knick knacks are still hanging from their hooks apart from the dust balls stuck to them. He hadn’t wanted to take anything down, didn’t want to have to come back to see everything stripped bare.

         

Everything else had been packed away. Gemma had given him a look that clearly asked him to think sensibly. No one was going to keep coming twice a month all the way over to clean and dust the house, belongings would rot away if kept out in the open when they could be kept safe stored in boxes. She herself had taken down everything in her bedroom but let Harry leave his stuff. Gemma understood the pleading look in his eyes that day, the day when they had to make decisions to start living again.

         

Harry heads for the basement, passing the kitchen on the way that is as empty as the rest of the house except for the furniture. The basement had been more of a room for Gemma’s Hogwarts belongings just in case they had Muggle visitors to the house. The place has a sofa that now smells like mothballs, a table and a couple of chairs to match it, a hammock, trunks and loads of storage boxes, taped and labelled.

         

Even though the basement is the most arid and dingy place, it somehow eases him. The smell doesn’t feel new or like polished floors, more like the barren wood lying about. It sets his veins at rest. He had barely noticed the fact that he no longer feels like he wants to tear his head apart, or like the world is going to spit in his face.

         

Sinking into the blue and white striped sofa, he pulls a trunk towards him. He zips it open to reveal leather bound textbooks. _The Monster Book of Monsters_ is sitting under Gemma’s year one Transfiguration text book and Harry has half a mind to open it just for the fun of it. He remembers Gemma showing him how the book snapped until you stroked its spine. He had found a fancy in it back in the day. He’s smiling as he caresses the cover of the book, fingers twitching to unlatch it.

         

He goes through the entire trunk, books, parchment, dried ink bottles, quills that are falling apart, scratched notes; it’s like a narration of Gemma’s life. But he goes through them with a fondled touch of heart, revelling in the little bits of life he had never been able to experience. He finally gets to the bottom of the trunk, bits of feathers lining the corners. He puts everything back in it, zips it up, pushes it aside and stands up to get another. It’s making him calm to dig through the past for a bit.

         

There are two green trunks stacked upon each other from which he tugs one off soundly to the floor. He huffs before he crouches to open it when he loses balance and falls back on his hind, hitting the wall in the process. “Merlin!!” He groans, bringing his arm forward to inspect his elbow which is growing a light red. His back hurts too, like someone pounded on it with a hammer.

         

Grunting like an old man, Harry gets up using the back of his feet and hands. He turns around fairly only to feel shock pulse through his entire body. “What the—?!!” He gawks staring at the hole in the wall, the wallpaper torn away and plasterboard littering the area in bits and pieces. He inches closer with a hand outstretched, letting his fingers slowly tear away the rest of the rotten wallpaper. More plasterboard crashes onto the floor, making the whole look bigger.

         

Harry scoots on his knees, closer to the wall, getting his jeans powdered in white plasterboard dust. He breaks the plasterboard so the hole looks like a perfect square, the size of a dumbwaiter. He feels at the wooden panel set a few inches further, trying to see if there’s a latch or knob somewhere on it to open the dang thing.

         

It’s when his wand digs into his chest while he’s squirming to find an opening in the panel that the idea clicks together. He draws his wand from the inner pocket, points at the panel and whispers _Alohomora_. The small click sounds throughout the damp room and Harry grins madly. He’s found a secret compartment in the basement. God only knows what it contains; maybe there are diamonds or gold or secret recipes.

         

He latches a finger onto one of the bumpy ridges on the panel and slides it to the left and— what he doesn’t expect to find is a shit ton of papers and books. They look centuries old, the pages are yellowed with bits fallen off the corners. He tries to handle them carefully, but he can’t help it when some of them fall to literal dust. There’s dozen of large leather bound books, parchment sewed together to form booklets, in folders. He takes them all out of the compartment, gently as possible and lays them between his outstretched legs.

         

Cautiously turning the first few pages of a book, he reads the lines that are written in chicken scratch. Whoever wrote this probably had bad grades for handwriting. It’s a diary he realizes the further he skims over the contents of the book. A diary that belonged to a man named Cedius Fincham. The contents bore him, there’s at least three diaries belonging to the same person. Harry decides to separate the diaries from everything else until he comes to realize there are at least twenty odd seven hundred paged diaries, belonging to different people, from different timelines.

         

His eyes grow wide in shock at the fact that if he read all of this, he could go back in time. Fucking hell!!!!

         

Choosing the one that he deems to be the oldest, he turns the delicate pages. It’s from four decades ago, four hundred years ago!! How on earth could one keep all this here without having it disintegrate?! How the fuck?!!! The diary’s owner is someone with the name of Glen Potter. Glen Potter! His eyebrow quirks involuntarily.

         

Glenn’s diary is from the age of twenty five to fifty and there’s only one diary of hers. He assumes she had possibly stopped inscribing her life. She speaks of her first love, her grandfather; Harry’s passing away, Harry snorts at the fact that they have the same name. She continues to write about her job as a Potioneer, her marriage, kids and all the happy go lucky shit that happens in normal life. From the looks of it, she’s the only person who’s a witch, and far as Harry has read the rest of the diary owners know of the Wizarding world but are Muggles. “Wow,” Harry whispers as he skims through a few more pages.

         

He finds a folded up card which when he unfolds, extends to be a length of twelve feet. He has to move most of the trunks and boxes to make room for it. A family tree sprawls the stretch of it, in the shape of a tree, drawn in goldish ink, and each person’s name written in beautiful black lettering. A smile stretches across his face, as he touches the spread with his palm, very gently, feeling the rough texture of the paper.

 

It’s beautiful.

 

It would make a beautiful photograph but nothing like the real thing he’s feeling between his fingers and seeing with his every own eyes. It’s not through the lens of a camera.

 

Crossing his legs, Indian style, he begins to pour over the contents of the family tree. His index finger traces each one, noting every member as he mouths their names. It’s fascinating that he’s reading all these names of people who he doesn’t even know.

 

His eyes skip to the very end which has an empty space of two feet, enough to draw more members, the rest of the family tree. Harry wonders if the rest of them are still living. He traces from the very end until where the tree ends—

 

Harry gasps, bringing a hand to his mouth to muffle the sound. He should have known! Why else would stuff like this be in his grandmother’s house?!

 

Right there—at the very end of the family tree are two blossoms; banners curving around them are the names _Gemma Styles_ and _Harry Styles!_ He almost stumbles from the shock of it. This is his family tree, generations of his family tree. Laughter bubbles forth because it’s wonderful, immensely amazing to be able to have a peek of his ancestors.

 

With pure delight rumbling in him, he goes back to trace every person with much focus. He’s so eager and excited.

 

It begins with Tyson Hudge and Ophelia Potts, goes down to five Hudge kids, two males and three females. Two of them are unmarried. Julius Hudge marries a Peter Johns and they have adopted kids. Maria Hudge marries a Ronnie Dayton and has two boys and lastly Betty Hudge marries Clyve Potter. Harry’s interest piques as he goes down further. Betty and Clyve have a son, Philius Potter, Philius has a kid named James.

 

“Merlin’s lost his pants.” Harry whispers in awe. He rubs his eyes just to make sure he’s seeing properly and not just dreaming that James Potter married Lily Evans and has a kid named Harry Potter where he has a cousin Dudley. Harry fumbles for his phone in his back pocket, never taking his eyes off the tree.

 

It’s all there!! Harry Potter’s kids, his granddaughter Glen Potter, so that was the Harry, Glen was talking about in her diary. _Shit!_ He switches on his phone, eyes still tracing the grandiose tree that has become even more interesting.

 

He’s a descendant from Harry Potter!!! He’s not a Muggle-born then is he? Or is he? But Merlin! This is bloody great news.

 

His phone has barely been switched on; he hasn’t even had time to fucking breath when his phone rings. It screams that bloody _beedooo beeedoo_ minion thing. Niall had changed his ringtone. Fucking prat!

 

“Hey!” Harry greets, distractedly, still thumbing the paper.

 

“HAZ!!” He has to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid his ear drum from bursting.

 

“You don’t need to yell.” Harry replies calmly, trying to pay attention to Zayn on the other line, “What’s wrong?”

 

“What’s wrong?!! You’re asking me what’s wrong when you don’t even answer your bloody calls? How do you expect me to react?!!!” Zayn shouts, “We’re fucking worried about you here! You were supposed to be at the flat four hours ago.”

 

“Jeez alright.” Harry groans out, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Lou is worried too Haz.” Zayn seems to be trying to be calm but really he’s still yelling, sort of, “You should have at least texted us where you are. I’ve been ringing and texting you for hours and you’ve switched off your damn phone!”

 

Sighing as though miserable, he scoots backwards and rests against the wall. He can’t even care that the white plasterboard dust would coat his jeans. He’s feeling the excitement and Zayn’s anger together right now. He waits for a few seconds; waits until he can hear Zayn’s breathe evening out on the other end before he speaks. “Look, I’m so sorry. I had to leave Zee. I had to.” It’s almost a plea, “I just had to. I couldn’t take it anymore and so I switched off everything and simply drove. I just—I’m sorry.”

 

Zayn’s voice is soft when he speaks again, soft and understanding. Like he knows art is abstract but if the paint is too thick it’s going to be a disaster. “Haz—“ Harry nods, forgetting that Zayn can’t see him, “H, it’s alright. We’re going to be worried of course, and I’m not saying its okay that you didn’t inform us but I understand okay? I understand that you’re under pressure, so I’m saying its okay. Are you alright? What happened?”

 

“Yeah—yeah I’m fine.” Harry smiles, “I’m doing well actually now. I had a moment at the bakery, a break down point moment. It’s all fine now.”

 

“Okay.” Zayn says, “I’m glad you’re fine. Do you want to speak to Lou?”

 

He wonders if he should tell Zayn of the good news but it wouldn’t be right telling him first before even seeing how Louis is doing. So he asks to speak to the man.

 

“Haz!” Louis sounds frantic and it only makes Harry feel guiltier.”Haz are you okay?”

 

“Yeah I’m fine Lou. You okay though?”

 

There’s hesitation on the other end. Harry doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s genuinely worried and can’t help feeling like it. “I’m really fine Lou.” He repeats.

 

“Okay.” He replies, “Where are you?”

 

 _Oh_. He wasn’t expecting either of them to ask his location but it’s not like it’s a secret either. “I’m at my Nan’s.”

 

“What? That’s like hours away!”

 

“I know. But I wasn’t feeling so good and the only place that felt like I needed to be in was here so I did.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I’m doing well now and I also have some good news.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“I’m sure Lou, a hundred and ten percent.” He chuckles.

 

He hears Louis exhale, “What’s the good news then?”

 

“I think Zayn might want to hear it too.” Harry replies, shuffling to bring the chart towards him. “Put me on speaker.”

 

“Alright.” He hears the sound of rustling, moving objects and then Louis speaks. “You’re on speaker Haz.”

 

Harry prepares for his explanation, feeling the giddiness overwhelm him. “So um…I was in the basement and I was just going through the boxes and stuff…” The silence tells him they’re listening. It makes him nervous in a good way. It feels like a cliff hanger. “I fell—and um there’s this huge hole in the wall with a panel and all.” Someone gasps and it only makes Harry grin wider. “I used a spell to open the panel like because there didn’t seem to be any sort of knob or anything and it made sense you know to, so yeah.”

 

One of them hums, encouraging Harry to go on. “I found a load of ancient books and stuff, all yellowed. Turns out that they’re diaries from centuries ago.”

 

“Really?” Louis gasps, “Go on. To whom do they belong to?”

 

“They’re my ancestors!”

 

“No way.” Zayn says, tone laced with amazement.

 

“Yes.” Harry nods his head eagerly, unable to stop himself from shivering with joy on the spot. “And I also found this big chart, it feels like parchment but I’ve never seen parchment that big, it could be wallpaper for all I know but it has this family tree. A huge family tree, literally a tree with the tree trunk and flowers and leaves. There are flowers with names on them. It’s not like the one where the oldest are at the very bottom, sort of like—“ Harry bites his lip as he observes the art of the tree trunk-only half of it- and the branches falling downwards with flowers in organized rows and columns. “I’ll bring it with me so you can guys can see it.”

 

Louis replies with an “Okay. I’m getting antsy here H, what’s the news?”

 

“Harry Potter is one of my ancestors!”

 

It envelops them in a cocoon for minutes until one of them breaks it with a “Fuck!” Harry can’t help the bloody big smile that graces his lips. It’s wonderful news! Glorious even.

 

“I know.” He says, “I’m so happy. Lou did you hear that?”

 

“I did.” He can imagine Louis shaking his head vigorously, smiling to himself. “Haz this is amazing.”

 

“Yes, yes.” He squeals, “Gemma will be so overjoyed. She’ll be over the moon.”

 

They need some time to overcome the happiness coursing through them but then Zayn and Louis are urging Harry to come back to the flat because apparently, it’s impossible to celebrate on the phone. Harry agrees because why not? He just wants to cuddle up to Louis, since this feeling of mad joy that’s overtaken his being is simply blissful. There’s nothing in the world he could care for right now, well not technically but he’s so fucking happy, like he’s in heaven that he swears he can feel electric shocks on his fingertips.

 

He hangs up with a promise to immediately leave the house and begins packing up the family tree into a cellophane bag he manages to find in the kitchen, and puts the diaries very carefully into a worn but strong enough rucksack. He puts everything else he doesn’t need back in the secret wall compartment, locks the panel and patches up the hole by pasting brown paper which he very lightly dabs with a bit of spit.

 

Smooth as a sly cat.

 

He buckles into his car seat and turns the ignition, rucksack sitting safely on the passenger seat. When he glances at the bag, the same feelings flood him in treacherous waves, swallowing him up. It all makes sense, how he had been inexplicably good at doing spells without so much practice. He remembers Gemma telling him that his skill for learning spells promptly must be in his blood. The thought of her makes him glance at his phone that’s on the dashboard, wishing she had a mobile too so he could inform her of his findings. How ecstatic she would be!

 

Harry makes sure to stop at a bakery in Barnton and get a variety of cakes and biscuits, stuff that Louis has hopefully never tasted before. And to be frank he’s quite glad that had it not been for dropping the cakes back in London, he would never have made the choice to go back to Barnton.

 

When he unlocks the door to the flat, he’s ambushed by an armful of Louis. Chuckling softly, he wraps his arms around the shorter man and bends a little at his knees so he can tuck his face into his neck. He can smell the fresh smell of apple and flowers on Louis, hair damp from a shower. “Gosh, you’re back.” Louis mumbles into his chest.

 

Harry grins, madly so. “What? Did you think I’d run away?”

 

“Well, you never know considering it’s you Haz.” A new voice interrupts, making them pull apart. Zayn stands a few feet away from them, arms crossed over his chest and a small smile playing on his lips. “We were actually going to file a missing persons.”

 

“Awwww you sod.” Harry laughs and opens his arms for Zayn. They hug briefly, patting each other’s backs before they pull away. Harry hastens to pull the rucksack off his back when they’re interrupted again.

 

“I heard there’s good news.” Harry would recognize that Irish accent anywhere. “And you wankers kept me out of the loop.”

 

“You want a hug too Nialler?” Harry teases as he appears with a sandwich in hand, chewing like a hungry wolf. “I bought desserts if you are interested by any chance.” Niall’s eyes light up at that. He ambles toward him with an outstretched arm.

 

Louis laughs beside him and Zayn shakes his head in amusement when Harry hands over the box of goods. Zayn switches on the television to something watchable while Niall brings out paper plates so they can all enjoy the treats. Louis helps Harry take everything out of the rucksack and arrange them on the sofa.

 

Harry spreads the parchment on the glass coffee table, and then sits back letting everyone else study it. He feels sort of important with the way the boys are gawking over the inked tree. “This is goatskin.” Louis says, feeling the material of the paper, “This is ancient. Bloody hell!”

 

“Art is beautiful.” Zayn hums from the other side, an eaten pink cupcake in his hand, “This stops at you and Gemma.” Harry nods. He wishes he knew who had recorded his and his sister’s names on the tree, whether it had been Nan. But why had she never bothered to tell either of them?

 

Niall cuts in the midst of the hushed conversation. “Never in a billion years would I have believed that Harry bloody Potter was your ancestor. Like Christ, do you realize how famous you’re gonna be when this gets out?”

 

Two heads whip up, so does Harry’s. They’ve all got the same look except Niall who’s looking as innocent as a puppy. He really no idea what he just implied. “Will we--?” Harry begins but Louis beats him to it.

 

“We won’t tell anyone unless you want to Haz but—“He leans backwards and wraps his hand around Harry’s wrist, “I know you know that this could dispel the rumours…only if you want to of course.” At Harry’s worried look, he adds, “But we won’t talk about it now. There’s enough time for worry to take over the next few days. We did say today was a celebration.”

 

“Sorry mate.” Niall apologizes, head bowed as if he’d just committed a crime. Harry’s literally crushing the cupcake in his hand from the sudden worry that had swept him. He stares at it for a moment and then grinning to himself, Harry balls up his cupcake wrapper and throws it at the blonde. “Oi! You fucker!” It helps ease the tension within himself. Louis’ hand only improves to give his wrist a light squeeze. Harry moves forward to quickly press his lips to Louis’, to feel them again, to feel their softness and love.

 

“It’s marvellous.” Louis comments, “I’ve never seen anything like it. Not our own manor has an honourable family tree.”

 

“Maybe you do. Maybe it’s like a secret thingy that you haven’t seen yet you know—like how I find mine inside the wall.” They laugh at that. Harry leans sideways, closer to Louis, a diary open in his hands as he scans the pages. “Can we all put this to rest and have a night in?” He looks at the three of them, hopeful. It feels like the right thing, he can feel the tiredness in his bones. Travelling for six hours is not simple even if he was only driving a car.

 

“Course babe.” Louis replies.

 

Niall jabs at the empty part of the scroll with his index, “You’re gonna inscribe your kids names in here. Fucking brilliant!” Before he rolls the parchment with his sticky hands, obviously, he adds “I’m going to search me house for secret compartments too when I make a visit.”

 

“And find out you’re a descendant of Tom Riddle.” Louis jokes. It only continues to make Niall pout and glare at the laughing man.

 

“Godric Gryffindor actually.” Niall smirks which makes Louis groan as the others watch with amusement. “Okay, alright. I might be a Hufflepuff but he’s a bloody legend!”

 

Harry leans closer so he can whisper in Louis’ ear. “Bed?” Louis looks at him and gives a firm shake of his head. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist, giving it a squeeze.

 

Louis stands up at the same time Harry does. Harry decides to tuck the bag safely somewhere in his room. “Alright boys,” Louis says, bending backwards as he pops a few bones, “Haz and I are—“

 

The sound of a screech has them all alarmed, turning their heads in sync in the direction of the sound. There’s a bang on the window and another screech. “What the—“Louis mumbles. He leaves Harry’s side to open the front door to see what the commotion could be. They all wait in curiosity for Louis’ response. “It’s my sister’s owl.”

 

“Well, at least now I know that they can do their job at night too.” Harry says. His science books stated that they were night creatures and it had first puzzled him when he learnt that the owls flew during the day. The brown barn owl enters the flat with a brown letter held in its beak which it drops into Louis’ open hand.

 

“Meet Holly.” Louis introduces the owl while his eyes are on the envelope in his hand, “I’ve got a howler.”

 

Harry’s eyes bulge at the mention of it but neither Niall nor Louis is having a worried expression. Zayn’s just curious, his body twisted in his seat to watch Louis open the envelope. “Don’t worry.” Niall explains when he sees Harry’s face, “It’s a brown howler. It’s not violent.”

 

“Oh.” He feels the horror drain out of him as quick as an unplugged bath.

 

“Who’s it from?” Zayn asks, interest piqued.

 

“My mum.” Louis looks around at them, brows furrowed before he settles on Harry. “I’m not sure if I should open it.”

 

“You could open it in my room.” Harry offers, understanding the concept of privacy. He’s feeling slightly worried too since the fact that Louis’ mum sending him a howler does not seem like positive news at all.

 

Niall jumps off the sofa, almost like a cheetah which scares Holly to flap her wings and make a high pitched sound. “Sorry Holly.” Niall says but he looks at Louis instead, “Open it mate. It’s not a red howler.

 

Louis laughs, a low rumble, his lips in a lopsided smile yet he opens the envelope anyway as if Niall’s encouragement was all he actually needed. “You wish it was a red howler Ni.” As soon as he opens the envelope it comes to life, floating in mid air. It faces Louis so Harry hurries to his side so he can witness an envelope speaking. How absurd.

 

The blue wax on the envelope serves as the mouth, the seal flap slitting to form eyes. “Loubear,” A soft voice fills the living room. Harry sees the pink flush rising up Louis’ neck at the mention of his nickname and he tries to maintain his smirk although Niall gives a loud snort. “I am sure the past few weeks or month in general has possibly been quite difficult for you. I know it’s not appropriate of me to suddenly try to interfere but I have had enough myself. You are my son and you know I love you very much despite everything. I wish to modestly apologize for the events that occurred the night before, if you will have it so. I would love to meet your boyfriend too. I think he’s a wonderful boy dear.”

 

Harry slowly brings Louis closer into his side. He can feel the trembles that are wracking through the man’s body, knows how much this means to him. Niall’s the only one out of the four of them who seems to have no clue of what happened at Tomlinson Manor. Zayn’s going to have to explain because neither he nor Louis are in the stable mood to tackle explanations.

 

Jay continues speaking, “It would be delightful to have the two of you to dinner on Sunday. Your sisters are quite excited at the prospect. Your father won’t be here of course, and I don’t think he’s ready to accept certain things yet but I will. There is always a first time for everything. I hope to hear from you soon. Love mum.” The envelope goes back to its normal, plain looking self just as it begins to fall to the ground. Zayn is the one to catch it, placing it on the table.

 

Harry is watching Louis instead. He watches as Louis’ expression crumbles from surprise to something akin to wistfully blithe. His eyes are wet and his nose is turning a light red. Louis turns to Harry, “She—“It’s almost as if he can’t believe what had just happened, cannot register that his own mother simply wants him back, hadn’t hated him like he had thought all along.

 

“I know babe.” Harry says softly, bringing Louis into his embrace, flush against his chest. He rubs Louis’ back as Louis winds his arms tightly around Harry and gives a weak sob into his chest. “Shhh it’s all good now innit.” They barely pay attention to Zayn and Niall sneaking away, Holly right behind them. “You’re happy aren’t you?”

 

Louis makes a strained sort of chuckle, sniffing through his nose, “I think so. I’m just so—I feel a lot of things right now. I never expected this day to come.”

 

“Well now it has.” Harry grins. He rubs circles at the back of Louis’ neck with his thumb, randomly combing through his feathery hair. “Do you want to go to bed? You’ll feel better in the morning. Rejuvenated.” He feels Louis’ head moving against his chest so he takes it as a yes. Louis is reluctant to move away in fear of the others seeing his tear stained face so without jostling the fellow too much, Harry heaves him up bridal carry style.

 

-

 

Sunday morning arrives with a plethora of sounds from the cringe inducing din in the kitchen to the blazing sun rays peeping through the curtains in his bedroom. He never wakes up this late but Saturday had been an energetic day and late night. All five of them had travelled around London, Harry taking his camera with him. They took a boat cruise on River Thames, explored the Tower of London, Louis had mostly wanted to see the Crown Jewels. They had lunch at The Little Square in the main centre square of Shepherd Market, tucked away around the corner from busy Piccadilly in the borough of Mayfair.

 

The last thing on their little London visit was taking the London Eye after brief stops at Hyde Park and St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was Louis’ first time seeing so many parts of London considering that he wasn’t allowed to be out much in the Muggle World. The five of them ended the day with a game of football at their park, pizza and a round of Spin the Bottle which was again something new to Louis.

 

Yawning, he makes a lazy sound and rolls onto his side. He blinks his eyes a couple times to clear his vision before it lands on Louis. A soft smile slowly glides across his lips as he takes in the dishevelled appearance of Louis’ soft brown hair. His head is turned towards him, mouth open as he drools onto a wet spot on the white pillow and hands tucked together underneath the side of his head. Harry sneaks a hand around his lower back underneath the white grey cotton t-shirt. He strokes the warm flesh with a thumb, watching as Louis’ eyeballs begin to stir beneath their lids.

 

“Morning.” Harry kisses the tip of Louis’ nose, whispering into his skin. Louis giggles. He’s barely awake and Harry’s peppering him with morning kisses. Louis shuffles closer to him, buries his face into the warmth of Harry’s neck and kisses the patch of sweaty skin there.

 

“Everyone’s awake.” His voice comes out raspy and rough. Harry replies with a hum, snuggling closer even though there’s no space at all. Louis whines at having to wake up early, and then fists his hands to scrub at his eyes. “I can’t believe we agreed to this.”

 

Eyes closed, his nose in the mop of Louis’ hair, Harry can smell the fruity shampoo. “You’re the one who kept teasing Zayn about it. The poor guy.” Louis makes a weak attempt at hitting Harry on the chest for that. They had promised to take Zayn to Diagon Alley for the day when he insisted on having Chocolate Frogs. Louis had kept teasing him about it though, talking animatedly about all the lovely places in the Wizarding world which had Zayn pouting like a child at Harry.

 

Pounding sounds on the wood of their door, jerking them both to sit up in bed. “Wankers you up yet?!” They glance at each other and flop backwards laughing loudly. They can hear Niall groaning from outside. “I swear there won’t be any porridge left. Besides,” Louis puts his tongue out, making a disgusted face. “Zayn’s going to burst a vein.”

 

“You can have my porridge.” Louis calls back just as Harry asks, “What’s wrong with Zaynie?”

 

“Oh you must see.” Niall replies with a snicker, “Get up already, lazy bums.”

 

When Harry tries to get out of bed, pushing the covers aside, Louis lunges at him. He looks up and makes a face. It makes Harry chuckle and thumb the corner of his lip. “Come on love. We don’t want to be late which will then end up in making us late for dinner at your mum’s.” The glad shine of his expression makes his eyes twinkle when he is reminded of the letter Jay had sent him a few days back.

 

“Kiss then?” He purses his lips for Harry to bend lower and chastely kiss him, ending with kitten licks. Louis makes a pleased sound and pulls himself up with Harry’s help.

 

When they make their way into the kitchen after a warm shower, it smells of bacon. “Good morning!” Liam, Niall and Zayn greet them as one without even looking up from their tasks. Louis’ brows arch as he walks towards the counter to make himself and Harry cups of tea. “I thought we were having Porridge Zee.”

 

Zayn nods, “But then Niall informed me you didn’t want it.”

 

“Is this some sort of compensation for taking you out today?” He grins, pouring hot water into the mugs. Harry’s seated beside Niall and Liam, digging into his breakfast, a ripe yellow banana on a napkin for him.

 

“Nah.” He denies but anyone can hear the ecstatic vibration of his vocals and how jumpy he is. His body gives the vibe of someone who’s just having an adrenaline spike. The pan sizzles from the bacon and oil, mouth watering. Louis’ tummy rumbles which causes Harry to chortle a laugh.

 

As much as Louis seems to be prideful that Zayn’s making him breakfast, the raven haired man ends up placing slices of the meat onto everyone’s plates, mouthing a _sorry_ to Louis.

 

They rest before they change to travel, to let the food digest. Liam’s the first one to have changed into a pair of deep blue robes, sitting on the sofa scrolling through the internet on Harry’s laptop. The rest of them wear casual clothes which makes Liam shake his head in disapproval. “I believe three of you are wizards.”

 

“Chill out Payno.” Louis slaps his shoulder and gives him a big kiss on the cheek. Liam tries to rub it off with the sleeve of his robe.

 

“How are we travelling?” Zayn finally pops into the living room; mouth wide in a smile, eyes crinkled.

 

“Disapparation.” Four of them chorus together.

 

“Ah.right.”

 

“Side along Disapparation Zee.” Harry explains, “You can go with whomever you trust not to splinch you.”

 

“Wait what? You mean I’ll have parts of my body broken or something? This is dangerous. Why don’t we just take the tube?”

 

“Which will be like half an hour or so.” Louis grunts, “We could be there in Disapparate in seconds.”

 

“Okay, alright.” Harry observes as Zayn thinks it over. His eyes drifting from one to the other.

 

“Liam.” He finally says.

 

“Knew it.” Louis grins, pulling Harry into his side, “Going with the boring hog.” Niall guffaws loudly and with a flick of his wand he disappears.

 

“Heeyyy!” Liam whines, “I’m trustworthy.”

 

Louis flicks his hand, “Yeah, yeah. Remember that bathroom incident though?” Harry looks at him with a questioning look but the next second he’s whizzed away from the flat and squashed through a tunnel.

 

“Oh gosh, I’m still not used to it.” Harry sputters as soon as his feet find solid ground.

 

Louis chuckles and tucks his wand in his back pocket, “Imagine when you learn to do this by yourself.”

 

“Aha!” The thought pops into his head like a bomb. He points his fingers in a gun motion at Louis, “Now you’re gonna have to teach me because you know…” He motions to himself with a sly grin, “I’ve got royal blood in me.”

 

Louis chortles on a laugh, going on his toes to peck his nose. “I will. I’ll teach my gorgeous, famous boyfriend how to Disapparate.”

 

“Thank you.” He preens, sliding his fingers down Louis’ arm to lace their fingers, “Where’s Niall anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to arrive first?”

 

“Oh you’ll get used to figuring out where he disappears to.”

 

“Okay…and what’s with the bathroom incident? What did I miss?”

 

They stand by the sidewalk for the others, watching wizards and witches pass by them in Diagon Ally. “It was during our third year in Hogwart—” Zayn stumbles right into Harry, breathing heavily. Harry’s quick reflexes reach out to steady him when Louis laughs beside them.

 

“Shut up Lou.” Zayn groans, “I’m not doing this again. Ughhhh!!!”

 

Liam’s looking sheepish behind him, scratching the back of his neck and Louis’ finding it completely hilarious. Harry pats Zayn’s back as he hunches over like Harry did the first time he Apparated. “You’ll be fine Zee. We’ll give you a couple of minutes.”

 

“And um where’s Niall?”

 

Louis and Harry both turn to face Liam. Together they chorus, “You know!”

 

“Oh.” His eyes go wide, “Right. I’ll go get him before he’s drunk by noon.” They nod in sync, their attention drawing to Zayn who looks much better except for his paleness.

 

“Let’s go!” Louis thumps Zayn on his back eagerly which makes the guy squeak and scowl. Louis’ energy is rubbing off Harry lately which is why he can’t help it when he pulls Zayn into a choke hold and musses his hair, running to catch up with Louis who’s already taking off.

 

Since it’ll take them a complete day to visit every part of Diagon Alley, they simply decide to show Zayn the important and interesting places instead. Luckily Niall isn’t as drunk as they expected him to be. He’s the one who literally ticks each place off his fingers, giving Zayn brief details in the process.

 

Zayn gets to see the inside of the Owl Emporium, his jaw dropping at the sight of the variety of owls. They take longer to leave the place since Zayn has made a friendship with one of the tawny owls. They stop at Ollivander’s, Florence greeting them enthusiastically, and upon Louis’ request agree to show Zayn around the place. At Florish and Blotts, they tell him about the Invisible books and show him _The Monster Book of Monsters._

 

Niall takes him to Quality Qudditch Supplies where Louis, Liam and he buy their Quidditch equipment from, and its Harry’s first time entering the shop too. Zayn enjoys touching the many variety of Robe brands at Madam Malkin’s Robe Shop. Liam makes a stop at Amanuensis Quills to buy some new quills for himself, urging the others to go ahead and get something from Florence Fortescues’s Ice Cream Parlour.

 

Harry and Zayn purchase snacks and jewellery from the street vendors, thanks to the fact that Louis had helped Harry convert some of his Muggle money into Wizarding coins. Their last stops are at the Gringotts Bank which they admire from outside, afterwards at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. As much as the items at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes are fascinating, they can’t buy much due to the fact that Harry and Zayn would have no use for the items after they try it once.

 

So they only buy a couple of _Nosebleed Nougats, Glow in the Dark Gum, Canary Creams, A Screaming Yo-Yo_ and _Trick Wands._ A bag full of these, Louis suggests they end their journey by heading to Hogsmeade to have Butterbeer which Zayn would immensely enjoy.

 

A trip to Hogsmeade ends up with the five of them in the Shrieking Shack armed with loads of sweets from Honeydukes and two bottles of Butterbeer. The place isn’t Hogwarts Property anymore, years since the Battle of Hogwarts.

 

Louis hands Liam his bags, calling out to the others, “You guys go ahead, and I’ll check the perimeter just in case.”

 

“They seriously need to rename this place.” Liam says as he unloads the stuff he’s carrying onto a clean area of the wooden floor.

 

“Why?” Zayn questions absentmindedly from where he’s seated on a dirty sofa underneath a boarded up window, searching through the bag of sweets.

 

“Well… look at it,” Liam sweeps his hand at the entire room; “This place doesn’t shriek nor scream anymore.”

 

It’s true. The Whomping Willow no longer moves, which is why Louis has found it easier to make some of his trips to the place. And although the room is dusty from the lack of cleaning, the paper on the walls seem to be plastered newly years ago but they look pretty old now. There is a fair bit of furniture which includes a sofa, a small table and a shelf of books, which clearly belongs to Louis. There’s even a green rolled up sleeping bag in the corner. The place feels like a secret hideout what with the windows that are simply shut with wooden planks hammered. Harry believes upstairs must look the very same.

 

Niall flops on the sofa next to Zayn, uncapping a bottle of Butterbeer and beginning to pour it into five steel tumblers he finds on the mantel, and cleans with water from his wand. Liam on the other hand, joins Harry on the floor with a sigh of relief.

 

Zayn shares some of the sweets around, in a circle while Niall speaks, “You gotta try Weasley’s stuff mate.”

 

Quirking an eyebrow Zayn goes for the _Screaming Yo-Yo_. He bobs it once, a piercing scream sounds throughout the place, causing them to shut their ears with their hands. “Now it’s more like the Shrieking Shack.” Liam laughs.

 

Their laughs quieten when they hear the floor creaking. A shadow falls upon them which… turns out to be an animal as it comes closer to them.

 

It’s a fox!

 

Harry’s heart jack rabbits as Zayn’s eyes grow wide but neither Liam nor Niall react in a way similar to them. Niall cackles and Liam sighs as if he’s seen this a hundred times.

 

The fox approaches Harry. Harry inches backwards, eyes dead focused on the red fox. His eyes briefly glance at the pure white under the fox’s snout. “Guys…”

 

“Lou!” Niall laughs again. Harry is dumbfounded when he throws a sweet at the animal, even more so when he calls the creature _Lou_.

 

The fox finally gives in when Liam says, “Lou, stop it. You’re scaring the poor fellow.” Harry’s body is limp just as the animal flops on its back onto his lap. The fox wiggles and nuzzles it’s snout against Harry’s belly. “It’s just Louis. He’s being a nifty annoyance.”

 

“Oh shit!” Zayn’s light laughter lightens the air, “He’s an _Animagus_ right?”

 

Niall snaps his fingers at that, “Dead right you are Zaynie.” He hugs the man sideways. Harry finds his wits to scratch the fox’s stomach. It’s weird to see Louis as a fox. He still can’t believe it actually. But then the fox morphs into human form right in front of Harry, turning into Louis. It brings a bubbly laugh out of Harry, his fingers going to scratch at Louis’ scalp where he’s still laying across his back on Harry’s lap.

 

“You never told me you can turn into a fox.”

 

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Louis smiles lopsidedly, reaching up quickly to smash their lips in a quick kiss.

 

“It’s actually a funny story.” Niall cuts in, over them. “Tell ‘em Lou.”

 

Louis looks ecstatic by the prospect of it. He scrambles forward to grab a handful of sweets from Zayn’s bag and proceeds to settle himself between Harry’s outstretched legs, his back to Harry’s chest. “Alright…” Louis begins, tearing a piece from a jelly skull. “According to the books you need to hold a mandrake leaf in your mouth for a whole month which is part of the process of being _Animagus_.” Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist, resting his chin upon the shorter man’s shoulder. Louis makes a soft giggle when it tickles him.

 

“And this is the best part.” Niall speaks over him.

 

“Yeah.” Louis grins, “Unfortunately we weren’t on holiday and had only just learnt about _Animagi_ in Transfiguration.” Harry catches Liam shaking his head from the side. Zayn listening intently, a half orange, half purple sweet held between his thumb and index. “So we faked sore throats, pretending to cough each time we spoke.” It makes Niall hoot, slapping his knee and nearly sloshing his Butterbeer over the lip of his tumbler. “Niall loved smuggling sweets and he had Weasley’s skiving snack box from which we kept eating sweets that made us actually have sore throats and coughs.”

 

Just at that moment, a startling cry interrupts them all, causing them to turn heads towards Zayn. “What’s—“Harry goes and then he widens his eyes at the sight of Zayn’s nose bleeding. He’s trying to mop it up with the palm of his hand. Niall looks sympathetic while Louis looks amused. Harry doesn’t know what he should be feeling, concerned or finding it funny. Liam gets up and moves on his knees towards Zayn, taking the remaining piece of the sweet.

 

“Eat the purple side.” Liam explains, holding the sweet to Zayn’s lips, “It’ll stop the bleeding.” Zayn does as he’s told and within minutes, he’s doing fine. Breathing hard but fine.

 

“What on earth?” He gasps out.

 

“You just had a _Nosebleed Nougat_.” Louis replies, his head falling back on Harry’s chest, “It’s one of Weasley’s products. Those buggers.” He laughs, “But their products are worth every penny you pay. Now onto the story.” He claps his hands just as Liam says, “Eat some orange slices for awhile before you accidently have life threatening stuff.” He means it as a joke which doesn’t really come out as hoped. Liam doesn’t really have a humourous side.

 

“Anyway…so no matter how many times we were taken to the hospital wing, we pretended to drink our medicine while secretly dripping them down our shirts because we couldn’t open our months.”

 

“Because of the leaf?” Harry nudges.

 

“Yup.” Louis says, popping the _p_ soundly. “We came up with the grand idea of hanging a board around our necks explaining our illness and why we couldn’t speak during classes or to other students.”

 

“What about Liam?” Zayn asks, looking through the corner of his eyes at the shying man. “You left him out?”

 

“He—” Niall points a menacing finger at him, “He opted out cause lessons mattered more to him.”

 

Liam tries to defend himself, “Being speechless would have resulted in me being really behind at work.”

 

“So you’re not an _Animagus_?” Harry questions, before turning to Niall, “Only you and Lou are?”

 

“Yup.” Niall, Liam and Louis shake their heads. “Also—“Louis adds, “Registering as an _Animagus_ is a long process and Liam didn’t want to go through with it.”

 

“But Lou’s dad works in the ministry so it was like a snap of the fingers for us.” The corners of Niall’s lips quirk as he wiggles his eyebrows at Liam.

 

“Okay, alright!” Liam raises both of his hands, waving them in the air as if trying to make a point, “Stop attacking me.” Louis makes a high pitched cackle, catching the sweets Liam throws at him. He raises one to Harry, whose lips wrap about the sweet unaware of the glint in Louis’ eyes. As soon as Harry bites into the tiny black peppermint sweet, his ears and nose release a steam of smoke. It makes the others burst into peals of laughter. Harry narrows his eyes at an innocent looking Louis.

 

Harry steals a _Pepper Imp_ from Louis’ fisted hand and gets him to eat it which results in Louis smoking through the ears and nose too, whitish steam like train smoke billowing out. Harry giggles and nudges his nose against the side of Louis’ head, above his ear. Louis pouts at him.

              

“Does this mean your Patronus is a fox too?” Zayn asks when they’ve died down. He’s unwrapping a chocolate frog while Liam is chewing on a _licorice wand_ and Niall drinks his beer.

 

Harry wonders how on earth Zayn seems to know so much about Wizarding stuff. He’s probably read the Harry Potter books a zillion times.

 

“No, not exactly.” Louis replies, snaking an arm around Harry’s lower back. “It’s a lion actually.”

 

“Actually.” Liam mocks which results in Louis giving him a swift kick to the shin, “What? You sound snobby.”

 

Harry pops Sour Strips into his mouth, wincing each time he registers the sourness. Louis twists his neck, opening his mouth for a sour strip too. “Well you couldn’t even get your wits about to become an _Animagus_.” He pulls his tongue out at Liam. Louis sits up, pulling his wand out and pointing it at empty space. Harry’s the only one watching him with keen interest. Louis shuts his eyes for a concise few seconds and Harry watches as his throat bobs when he swallows, and then Louis says the incantation without hesitation. “ _Expecto Patronum_ ”. The many times Harry had tried it, he had failed. Needless to say, his body buzzes with excitement when he sees the blue ball of light emerge from the tip of Louis’ wand, illuminating the room, casting bright light onto everyone’s face that could literally have them blind.

 

The light slowly warps and morph into a … fox or at least it doesn’t look like a lion at all. It’s definitely a fox!

 

Harry fishmouths, running a dozen sassy remarks to come up with when he realizes that everyone’s just staring at the Patronus that’s in front of Louis. Like literally open mouthed staring. The Patronus is really beautiful, Harry hadn’t seen one in ages, since Gemma last conjured hers years ago. It’s such a shimmering blue; it makes him want to conjure his own. Besides the Patronus fox looks so much more adorable than the real animal.

 

“It’s not a Lion Lou.” He finally says which makes Louis give him a withering look.

 

And then seconds later…

 

“Oh…” Niall says eyes wide.

 

“Oh…” Liam goes, trying to smile as if everything’s perfect.

 

Zayn hasn’t got the slightest idea of what’s going on, at least. He looks from Louis’ shocked face – which Harry is trying understand why – to Niall and Liam’s _oh_ faces. That’s when he goes “oh” too and Harry just wants to cake their faces with mud.

 

“What’s going on?” He asks, pushing himself forward to drape himself all over Louis’ back. His breath blows the wisp of hair hanging near Louis’ ear when he whispers, “Why’s everyone looking like they found answers to travel back in time?”

 

“Um…” Louis goes, “Because they did.” Harry side eyes him, thumping his back whilst giving a bored look. Louis looks to the others who are still staring at him and Harry like fresh meat. He takes a look at his wrist watch. “Guys, a little privacy here?”    

 

“My stomach says there’s something wrong.” Harry whispers again.

 

“Shut up Haz.” Louis rolls his eyes, “We have time until dinner. Follow me.” He gets to his feet in one quick, fluid motion, twirling around to hold out a hand to Harry.

 

Harry gives him a pointed, questioning look but takes his hand anyway and begins to take the stairs to the loft.

     

-

 

Eight months later, Louis and Harry are ready to leave their cottage in Hogsmeade together. It’s Quidditch day, the Puddlemere United against the Wimbourne Wasps, and Harry is more than excited what with the special occasion that will take place by the end of the day. He even wakes up at six to begin preparing baked goods. Louis trudges downstairs a mere two hours later looking like a haggard young man living on the streets. He yawns loudly; scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hands, and greets a beaming Harry with a morning kiss.

 

Harry has taken to flying by broom like Louis does, to matches. He’s gotten quite good at it, thank heavens from all the training he had done with Louis. They arrive at the players’ tents at a quarter to four, greets Niall at the opposition team’s tent, Liam having taken leave due to last minute anxious event preparation.

 

“Good Luck.” Harry whispers against the wet softness of Louis’ lips. Louis smiles into their kiss and nods his head. He bops noses with Harry which makes Harry emit a squeaky giggle. Harry turns around and starts heading towards the bleachers where Louis’ family and Zayn are waiting for him.

 

Harry now gets to sit in the VIP box which is much less crowded and relaxing. The moment he steps into the box, he’s being pulled into a tight bear hug, “Harry dear!!” ringing in his ears. Laughing with the air of someone relieved, Harry hugs Jay back just as tight. It had barely taken five minutes for the Tomlinson family to warm up to him at the family dinner eight months ago. Jay has made him feel like a son ever since, like the mother he never had. And well…Louis’ stepfather isn’t particularly friendly but he’s on the _getting there_ platform ever since Harry’s lineage got out to the public.

 

“Hazzy!” There’s a chorus of shrieks as Harry pulls away to glance at the twin blondes staring up at him with wide grins burning their faces.

 

With an equally delighted, “Hey!” Harry bends to pull the both of them into a group hug, “How have you munchkins been? Hogwarts treating you good?”

 

“Oh yes!” Phoebe nods with a clap of her hands, “Professor Styles conducts fun classes.” Harry can only imagine Gemma teaching the first years. He sees Zayn by the side, hands behind his back.

 

“Ahah!” Harry crows, throwing himself at Zayn who laughs, “Missed you, you great big plum!”

 

“I am not a plum.” Zayn groans.

 

“But Gillen is.” Alright, maybe Zayn and Gillen had a wild night, ending up with positive pregnancy tests half a month earlier and somehow the two of them are over the moon about it. Louis had said that perhaps that was the push the couple needed. Zayn and Gillen are having their engagement a month after Liam’s wedding which is to say very exciting.

 

-

 

After the match, they head to the cathedral where Liam and Sophia’s wedding is taking place. They’re decked in matching dress robes, the turquoise green of Harry’s robe matches Louis’ inner shirt and the steel blue of Louis’ robes matches Harry’s inner shirt. They Disapparate separately, now that Harry’s learnt how to do it, gifts in hand. They meet Niall and Zayn and Gemma and her fiancé, Finn upon arrival, Louis being greeted extra special due to the winning of the three hour long match.

 

Liam and Sophia arrive together with their families in a wagon, in their wedding clothes. Liam gets to the altar, dressed in Ruby red robes and Sophia in a velvety soft white wedding dress walks up to him with her father as the crowd cheers in joy.

 

It’s a really lovely occasion. Louis and Harry spend a couple of good hours on the dance floor, waltzing like an old couple, savouring each other in the heat of the flowing music. They eat, they drink, and they ebb in joy, embracing the frivolous occasion until they’re absolutely tired.

 

Harry wraps himself to Louis’ side as they make their way out of the building. The wet grass stains their shoes and the air feels chilly as it brushes past them. The moon is out, joining the wedding herself, and the stars dot the sky to make such a picturesque night. They sit close, comfortably, on a worn out white bench by a clump of unnamed bushes.

 

“Someday this could be us.” Harry whispers from where his head is laying on Louis’ shoulder.

 

Louis links their fingers together, on his lap, his left hand clutching his wand. “It will be.” He whispers gazing forwards. It makes warmth froth within Harry’s belly whenever Louis mentions stability. It lets him know that somewhere down the road they’ll always be together.

 

He tracks the motion of Louis waving his wand, the tip of his wand turning a bright blue to produce a fox. It bounds around them before taking its own course to explore further in front of them. Harry smiles softly, craning his neck to breathe against the tender cologne smelling skin of Louis’ neck.

 

He takes out his own wand, deftly gripping it in his hand. Louis squeezes his hand with a glowing grin. He inhales deeply, thinks of the happiest memory. His happiest memories somehow involve Louis he’s come to realize. Louis is the only pivot in his life that has provided him with countless joyous souvenirs to life. He had tried to think of his own family but the sadness that simply flowed from those memories were just too much to bear. Gemma had been the first one to find him sobbing wretchedly in the backyard after an attempt to produce a Patronus.

 

He thinks of the time when Louis and he had kissed for the first time, lets that memory touch every part of him, and lets it fabricate the bliss he had felt in that moment until his wand is producing a bright blue light too. He watches proudly as the light takes the shape of a vixen that bounds around them just as the fox did before it joins the fox, their light getting dimmer. Harry remembers when Louis had told him that night in the Shrieking Shack about the changing of the Patronus when it’s true love. He had been absolutely gobsmacked that it made him crave to produce his own just to see if it’s true.

 

The day he had actually managed to create it was a week after the two of them had moved in to their new cottage, sitting on the steps of their back porch. Louis had been the succession of it.

 

And now…now the ecstasy he feels is nothing compared to what he had felt hours ago. Here he is, in Louis’ arms with the promise of a better tomorrow. He wouldn’t have to ever be alone for the rest of his life; he’d have someone to share forever with.

 

Louis drops his head to rest on Harry’s, his breath making the stray curls flutter against Harry’s red cheeks. “It’ll be us someday.” He repeats.

 

Harry sighs, fondly, peacefully. “We’ll be in line, after Zayn and Gems, probably even Niall.”

 

“Niall can marry his beer.” Louis says. Harry huffs a laugh, playing with Louis’ fingers, stroking his knuckles and feeling the skin.

 

“You and I.” Harry whispers, only for the both of them. “Someday.”

 

He feels Louis nod, shaking him with the force of it. “You and I.” It makes him feel whole.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave your thoughts in the comment section. Thank you :) x


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